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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945054">Breaking News</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blankfreeze1958/pseuds/Blankfreeze1958'>Blankfreeze1958</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Figure Skating RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, News Media</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:53:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blankfreeze1958/pseuds/Blankfreeze1958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa Virtue and Andrew Pojé are the faces of Canada's most popular news station. Scott Moir joins the team as their new meteorologist just when Tessa's about to take an important step in her career and report on a story she finds intensely personal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scott Moir &amp; Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. NewsCenter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now that’s what I call a <em>blue </em>moon.” Andrew laughs his fake television laugh and Tessa forces herself to go along with it, smiling through her teeth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks Andrew. Alright, well that’s all we’ve got. Thanks for sticking with us. I’m Tessa Virtue…” She waits.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Andrew Poje.” Andrew chimes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And this is NewsCenter Five at Five. See you tomorrow, everyone.” She smiles brightly for the camera as they cut off air. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuuuuuuuck.” Andrew grumbles, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his slicked back dark hair. “I need a drink. This has been the longest week of my life and it’s only Thursday.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swivels his chair in Tessa’s direction. She’s purposefully ignoring him, trying to get her notes in order so she can make a break for it before - </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Any interest in coming to Nero with me?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks down at her manicured nails, the deep red matching the dress she wears. She clears her throat. “I’m really tired, Andrew.” She says apologetically. Andrew’s just been through a bad break up and he’s been looking for distractions almost every night. Tessa loves him as a friend, she really does, but she just can’t stomach the idea of going out tonight. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” Andrew pats her on the back. “See you tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tries not to feel too bad as she leaves. She did go out with him on Tuesday, it’s just too much right now, she’s exhausted.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa gets home a little past midnight that night and strips herself out of her jeans and blouse, unclasping her bra and tossing it into the hamper as if it were a biohazard. She sighs, glad she has a wardrobe department at work have to keep track of her work clothes. She lets her long dark hair down from her bun, fanning it out over her shoulders and reveling in the feeling of being let loose from all that binds her in a day. She rolls her shoulders back, wincing as her spine cracks, releasing the tension of the day, as she reaches for her bathrobe, wrapping herself in the soft, silky fabric. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the kitchen, she pours herself a tall glass of white wine, and takes it to the living room where she settles back on her pristine white sofa and kicks her feet up onto the coffee table (it doesn’t matter that she normally considers that hedonistic, she’s <em>tired</em>.)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She entertains the idea of a significant other for a moment, just for a <em>moment</em>. It would be nice to cuddle up with someone after a long day. But she just wasn't fully comfortable with the idea. </span>
  <span class="s1">She's completely invested herself into her work, and it was paying off. Their ratings were fantastic and their stories had a purpose. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa thinks she could be happy this way too.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Friday comes and Tessa stumbles into work just barely on time. She’d tossed and turned, trying her best to sleep, but she had just been so restless. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sips her coffee now as she has her makeup done and then gets changed in wardrobe, going over some of today’s script. She steps out of wardrobe, her face still buried in the script and without warning, a man bumps into her forcefully. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa trips forward in her heels, her coffee cup flying from her hands. She closes her eyes, preparing for an utterly disastrous and equally embarrassing fall, when she feels a firm grip on her waist. </span>
  <span class="s1">She isn't going to fall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lets out a breath. “Fuck.” She grumbles, though she silently thanks the powers that be that her coffee, which has now spilled all over her blouse, is cold by that time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, oh my god, are you alright?” A man’s voice asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s suspended in the air, held up only by this stranger’s arms. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-...” Tessa tries to speak but it’s hard given the sudden shock. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man sets her upright and releases her from his grasp. Tessa almost feels insecure then, without him holding her in balance. </span>
  <span class="s1">She turns and looks up at the man, and, as they meet eyes, Tessa finds herself at a loss for words. The man seems to feel the same - his mouth ajar like he wants to speak but nothing comes out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes full stock of him; early thirties, thick black hair perfectly tousled, hazel eyes. He isn’t half bad looking, which, coupled with the embarrassment of being covered in her own coffee makes her cheeks flush. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, that wasn’t hot coffee was it?” He finally manages, sounding concerned. His voice is kind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head as they call five minutes to air. Her coffee is never hot by the time she's out of wardrobe. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” Is all she manages as she realises she needs a full wardrobe change before they go on. </span>
  <span class="s1">Without another word, she spins and slips back into wardrobe, shutting the door behind her. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They go about business as usual, she and Andrew. He reports on some tragic accident here or there, she lightens things up with a positive story, and then the camera pans over to Patch for the weather forecast. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And today, Newscenter Five, is regrettably my last day as your weatherman.” Patch says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s been so rushed this afternoon that she’s forgotten today is Patch’s last day. There’s a retirement party after work. Oh, she’ll miss Patch. She’s gradually gotten to know him over her few years as a newscaster on the network. Patch is an older man in his early fifties, but Tessa knows he’s been a fixture on Newscenter Five since before she could read. He’ll tell dad jokes between talking about the forecast and traffic, and he’s always looking out for her. He’s the only one who encourages her to try field reporting. It’s something she’s wanted to do for a while, and she thinks she has a good story lined up, she just… has to work up to it, that’s all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The camera cuts back to Tessa and Andrew. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Patch we don’t know what we’ll do without you.” Tessa says genuinely. Andrew simply nods and Tessa elbows him under the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He jumps slightly. “Yep.” Andrew coughs out. “A greater man has never been known.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes internally, knowing Andrew isn’t exactly the sentimental type.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Patch, we want to thank you for your years with this short montage of some of our favourite moments with you here on Newscenter Five.” Tessa says, and the camera cuts as they air Patch’s montage on the monitor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa gets up and pats Andrew on the shoulder to signal that he do the same. He does. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa walks straight into Patch’s outstretched arms and they finish the montage like that, the camera cutting back to see a lovely scene between she and Patch with Andrew standing somewhat awkwardly to the side. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I’ll miss you guys.” Patch says, giving Tessa one last squeeze before letting her go and pulling Andrew in for a hug after. </span>
  <span class="s1">“But I’m leaving the meteorology department in great hands.” He smiles. “I’d like to introduce our new meteorologist here on NewsCenter Five, Mr. Scott Moir.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes grow wide as the man who’d caught her earlier - the man who’d caused her to spill her coffee - waltzes on set in a sleek black suit, a crisp white shirt and a red silk tie. He certainly cleans up nicely she thinks, chewing her lip slightly. He’s carrying a mug of coffee. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shakes Patch’s hand and then makes his way over to shake Tessa’s. As she takes his hand she has that strange feeling again. <em>Fuck, what is it about this guy? </em></span>
  <span class="s1">They’re caught up in each other’s eyes again until Andrew clears his throat and Tessa realises she’s probably been shaking his hand for an unnecessarily long time. </span>
  <span class="s1">She pulls her hand back with such force that she physically stumbles back, and Scott flashes her a smile that makes her flush again. Hopefully the camera won’t pick up on it. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes Andrew’s hand and then turns to the camera. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s so great to be here.” He says, smiling. “I’m honoured and excited to be your new meteorologist, and I know I’ve got big shoes to fill.” He says, reaching over and clapping Patch on the back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s a natural, so at ease… almost <em>too</em> at ease. Tessa wonders if he’s done this before. She’s never heard of him, and a NewsCenter 5 position is prestigious enough that they only usually hire people with serious experience. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, alright.” Patch waves everyone off. “Enough about me - We all know I’ll be back - for those of you who don’t know my lovely wife, Marie, is our producer, so you can’t get rid of me that easily, Canada.” He turns to Scott. “Scott, shall we get to the forecast?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Let’s do it.” He says, turning and settling the coffee cup firmly in Tessa’s hands. She realises he’s brought it for her. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Careful with that, kiddo.” He jokes. “That one’s hot.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something overcomes her, <em>possesses</em> her in a way that she’s never felt before. “I wouldn’t have dropped it if you hadn’t come out of nowhere.” She asserts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And she sees the look on Andrew’s face - unbridled amusement as she remembers they’re still on air. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott just winks and turns back to Patch, heading over to the green screen for the weather. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Andrew return to their desk, Tessa clomping the mug down in front of her with a sigh. </span>
  <span class="s1">Andrew’s still grinning. “Strong start for the new kid, eh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa waves him off as they watch Patch and Scott give an A1 forecast. He’s really good, she has to admit. <em>Really</em> good. She tries not to be too impressed. </span>
  <span class="s1">When the camera pans back to she and Andrew, Tessa continues on as though nothing’shappened, taking a sip from the mug in front of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn't see the satisfied smirk on Scott’s face as she does.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Last evening marked the first time since July that we’ve seen the Prime Minister address theissue of the large swath of unemployed food service workers in Edmonton. Reports of the norovirus that shut down many family-owned businesses in the area have died down and the P.M. held a conference regarding the concerns about the local economy. Here’s what he had to say.” Tessa says before taking </span>
  <span class="s1">another sip of coffee as the monitor plays back footage from the press conference earlier that day. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m getting Chipotle for dinner, you want?” Andrew asks Tessa, choosing his order online. Tessa shakes her head. “Thanks.” She says “I’ll just have whatever they have at the party.” Andrew shrugs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The camera cuts back to Tessa and Andrew, and she’s about to make her final comments regarding the footage that she’s watched through earlier when she’s interrupted by Scott from in front of the green screen.<br/>
“Oh, I had that virus a few months ago. Atrocious.” He grimaces, holding his stomach. The camera pans over to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s mouth is wide open. He is <em>not</em> supposed to be making off hand comments like that… that isn't… that isn't how this <em>works</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patch nods. “My niece had it for a whole week. Lost about five pounds by the end of it, poor thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa glances over at Andrew who just looks confused. The cameraman is having a hard time figuring out who to focus on. He isn’t used to this either. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, it sounds like a tough time.” Tessa says, “But it’s really nothing to be afraid of now. Chief of infectious diseases Dr. Malakay Marshall has assured us that since the initial outbreak, restaurants have been sufficiently disinfected. Unfortunately hundreds of people are now looking for employment after their workplaces have had to shut down because of misinformation regarding the spread of the virus.” </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa allows herself to steal a glance over at Scott, who looks enthralled. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened?” He asks, almost sounding dumb. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew laughs and Tessa elbows him again. </span>
  <span class="s1">This is <em>so</em> unprofessional, she thinks to herself. Thousands of people are watching them! </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa grows hot again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Scott shrugs defensively, sporting a sheepish smile. “I’m just the weatherman.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The rest of the evening while they’re on air, Scott continues to make comments at the various stories Tessa and Andrew are discussing and he cracks a number of weather-related jokes as well. Andrew and Patch seem to be eating it up, but Tessa can’t get past how amateur and this all seems. They’re the number one news network in the country and they’re carrying themselves like children. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But when they cut, their producer, Marie France begins clapping. “Brilliant!” She laughs. “Magnifique! That was so candid!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes for real this time, upset that nobody is taking the fact that they’re the major news outlet in the entire country <em>seriously</em>. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The break room is decorated with streamers and colorful paper letters spelling out <em>Happy Retirement Patch.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s been watching Tessa flit about, taken by her prim and proper demeanor. He smirks to himself, impressed that she’s able to keep up her news anchor persona off the camera. He’s sure there’s a different side to her, a side more like one that had mumbled (however quietly) that little curse when the coffee had spilled on her, and for some reason, he feels incredibly tempted to bring it out of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, Scotty-boy, she’s unavailable.” Comes Andrew’s protective voice as he settles against the wall next to Scott. Scott tries not to stare at Tessa’s ass in her pencil skirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She seeing someone?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope.” Andrew sighs. “Just unavailable.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s brow furrows, but instead of getting into it he just claps Andrew on the shoulder a couple times. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn pulls Tessa to the side later that night. “New weather boy is <em>hot</em>.” She whispers in her ear, and Tessa rolls her eyes. “He’s ok.” She says. “Spilled coffee all over me earlier.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Kaitlyn says. “So that’s what that little interaction was about.” She giggles. Kaitlyn is one of the stylists for the show, and she and Tessa have been friends for years now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. He’s … he’s…” Tessa trails off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn’s grinning at her. </span>
  <span class="s1">“You think he’s hot.” She says, amused. “Admit it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do not!” Tessa nearly shouts, quickly hushing herself, growing hot. “I just think he - I mean he was just acting like we weren’t even on television. <em>Live</em> Television, Kait! It was like we were just having a conversation or something.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn’s still smiling the same way and Tessa rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on! That was unprofessional.” Tessa says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn just shakes her head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa balks. “It was!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn laughs and sets her hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “He seems friendly.” She says, shrugging. “Relaxed. People tend to like that. You might try it sometime.” </span>
  <span class="s1">She laughs at Tessa’s reaction and rubs her arm. “Oh, I’m kidding, you’re fantastic too. Just as hot.” She says, and Tessa rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Kaitlyn asks. “He obviously thinks so too, he’s been staring at you all night.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tessa chokes, but Kaitlyn’s already walking away, a sly smile on her face. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A few minutes later, Tessa’s resigned herself to the corner of the room, scrolling through the photos on her phone so that it looks like she has something to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa isn’t really one for parties, even if she knows most of the people here. She just doesn’t particularly like crowds. Sure, she’ll do her diligence, she’ll always go around and have polite conversations with the group, but it hardly goes further than that. She has Kaitlyn and that’s good, but most of the time, she just likes to go somewhere quieter, more peaceful. She’s an introvert through and through, and the irony that she’s made a career talking on live television to thousands (sometimes millions) of strangers is not lost on her. It seems ridiculous, but it actually makes a lot of sense to her. Newscasting is about making her <em>own</em> conversation. She reports on her own stories, She can look through the script beforehand. She’s <em>in control</em>. It isn’t like a <em>real</em> conversation which can go off in any number of directions at any given time without warning. Newscasting is <em>safe</em>. It’s important, it’s art, even. Tessa loves it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh. Tess.” Patch comes over and wraps an arm around Tessa’s neck, pulling her into a hug. “I’m going to miss you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles. “I know.” She says. “I’ll miss you too, but you really will be back to visit, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, of course. Marie likes showing off for me so she’ll drag me back as often as she likes.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Speaking of Marie, though.” Patch says, “I have a little parting gift for you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks at him confusedly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I got Marie to agree to letting you try your first field story.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh?” Patch says. “That’s all I get? Oh, come on, we both know that’s what you want to do, no? This is your chance!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I mean - that’s amazing, that’s so amazing. <em>Thank you</em>, Patch, really. I’m just not so sure I’m ready.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on! You’re the best reporter I know, and I know a lot of reporters, trust me. Too many, maybe.” He jokes and Tessa smiles. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And we both know when you put your mind to something there’s no stopping you. Look, I’m here for whatever you need. I believe in you, ok? You can do this.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Patch.” Tessa sighs, she’s moved that he has such confidence in her. She pulls him in for another hug. “Thank you so much.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” He says, patting her back. “Go get ‘em, yeah?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patch wanders off to find Marie and Tessa’s left standing in shock. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa jumps at the sudden interruption to her thoughts. Scott’s there, leaning on the wall beside her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” She says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hope you liked the coffee earlier, I didn’t really know how you liked it so I figured black because…” Scott trails off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because what?” Tessa asks, immediately, cocking her head and staring him down. Something about him just <em>irks</em> her. She’s never acted so bold to a virtual stranger before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott lets out a little huff of air, something halfway between a nervous laugh and a sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well… you seem…” He runs his hand through his hair. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I seem what?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You seem like the type to take your coffee black.” Scott finishes, hoping she’ll be satisfied with that answer and not prod him further into telling her that she seems a bit <em>up tight</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Luckily for him, she just nods. “Ok. Sure.” She says, still annoyed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So?” Scott says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what?” Tessa responds. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was I right?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shrugs. It had been good coffee. Sometimes she likes it black. Sometimes she doesn't. He’d gotten lucky. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was fine.” She tells him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pulls his lips together in a tight line, nodding. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I uh… brought you some cake. To make up for it anyway, in case I figured wrong.” He says, offering her one of the two plates she’s just now realising he holds in his hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looks down. He has a vanilla and a chocolate. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I like chocolate.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Gotcha.” He says, offering her the chocolate slice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” She says, taking it from him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches as she takes a bite first before digging into his own slice. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I liked your story on the virus.” He says. “It’s important people know about it so they can open those restaurants back up.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him, impressed that he actually cares, that he’d gotten the <em>point</em> of the story. She tries hard to do good, to enact change with all of her stories, and it means something that she’s gotten her point across. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you.” She says, slightly shy for some reason she can’t place, her cheeks colouring. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott finds it endearing and his smile grows. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your weather report was good.” She offers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head, chuckling. “Shitty weather this week, so I would’t exactly say that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, but… You seem comfortable up there, I mean.” She says. “Have you done this before?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “I did the meteorology segment for my local news station in Ilderton.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you heard of it? Ilderton?” Scott asks, slightly surprised. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’m from London.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, we were neighbors then.” Scott smiles, taking a bite of cake. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has a nice smile, Tessa considers, before quickly derailing that train of thought. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s impressed that a local news station meteorologist has gotten a position with Five, but maybe she’ll ask Patch about it later. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So about earlier,” Scott says, “I hope you know that it was <em>you</em> that walked into <em>me</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses, her fork in the air, midway between her plate and her mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “So really I think <em>you</em> owe <em>me</em> an apology.” He says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares at him still. Surely he isn't serious. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t -“ She begins, her pitch higher than normal, and Scott’s smirking now, wide and friendly. He’s enjoying this. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa is about to tell him off as she had earlier, when her phone rings. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I’m sorry, I really need to take this.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “I’ll accept a belated apology.” He beams. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t even have the time to react to whatever it is he's playing at before hurrying off to give Patch a hug and make her way outside to answer her phone. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott watches her as she leaves, letting out a long breath. She certainly is <em>something</em>.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa Virtue.” She answers the phone as she makes her way out into the parking lot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, hi, Mrs. Virtue.” A small voice crackles over the phone. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ms.” Tessa corrects. “And who may I ask is calling?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” The voice says, moving on without much acknowledgement. “Um I’m just calling um… I read your email and I would be interested in sharing my story um… assuming you’re still interested in it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses for a moment. “This regarding the email I sent to Meryl Davis?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman lowers her voice to a near whisper, “Yes. This is she.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods to herself. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I’m still interested if you are, Meryl.” Tessa says. She’d put feelers out for her first field story thanks to Patch’s encouragement over the past few months, but out of them all this is the one she'd least expected to pan out. “Yes, we would be interested in hearing a bit more about your experience as an athlete.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok." The woman says. "We're at 371 Northfield Road, Foxmead.” and Tessa scrambles to open her car door and jot the address down on the back of her hand as she holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll be expecting to you Saturday at ten.” The woman says, not bothering to check if that would work for Tessa.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um - we?” Tessa asks quickly as it seems the woman’s in a rush to get off the line. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My partner and I.” She says. “His name is Charlie. Charlie White.” The line clicks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sets her phone down, eyes trained on her steering wheel.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighs, once, twice, three times in the span of the minute that she waits there, contemplating how in the world she’s fallen into this project. She has to remind herself that this was her idea originally. This is something she’s always wanted to do, and now she gets the opportunity to try it out, and possibly do some justice. She thinks it could be cathartic. She tries to be excited. She <em>should</em> be excited, but she’s terrified of failure. And she’s terrified of having to face all the awful things she’s kept buried for so long. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Yeah, well...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That weekend seemed to fly by. Tessa spent most of it holed up at home, researching Meryl and Charlie. </span>
  <span class="s1">She watched a few of their performances and they certainly were talented ice dancers. She thinks they maybe could have made it to the olympics, even, which would make for a very interesting, albeit rather tragic, story. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Tessa rolled in tired again on Monday, this time for completely different reasons. It had been nice to spend the weekend researching, she supposed, even if something within her just didn’t fully feel comfortable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was looking through her script as her makeup was being applied, when Kaitlyn slipped into the chair beside her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love this colour on you.” She said, pulling the blush pink silk of Tessa’s top with her index finger and thumb. </span>
  <span class="s1">The makeup artist put the last touches on Tessa’s lips and left the two there to chat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiled at her friend and covered her mouth for a yawn before thanking her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tired?” Kaitlyn asked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded. “Late night. Or early morning, I guess.” Tessa had never fully gotten adjusted to their unique work hours. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Are you seeing someone?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughed. “Yeah, I’m in a very serious relationship with NewsCenter Five. He’s wonderful, pays for my food and housing and -“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn rolls her eyes and bats Tessa’s arm. “Ok, I get it.” She says. “I’m just saying maybe it would be nice to get you back out there? I mean… just to take the focus off work for a while.” She massages Tessa’s shoulders and winces when she feels they’re hard as rocks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ow.” Tessa says, but she’s thankful for the release.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess… jeez” Kaitlyn says. “I mean how long has it been since you last… you know?” Kaitlyn asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa waves her off. “Sex isn’t a cure-all.” Tessa says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, but it certainly helps.” Kaitlyn says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what I have a vibrator for.” Tessa smirks. “<em>He</em> never hurts me.” She’s joking and Kaitlyn’s lips quirk up, glad her friend has a nice sense of humour about such things. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How ‘bout dinner Wednesday night?” Kaitlyn suggests then. “Maybe we could catch up a bit and just get you out of the news cycle mindset.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and offers her a smile. “That sounds nice.” She says. “<em>No</em> potential dates, Kait. I <em>just</em> want dinner with my friend.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sounds good to me.” Kaitlyn says. As soon as she gets up to go, Kaitlyn lets out a little “Oop, sorry, Scott.” And sidesteps around him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa flings her head back. “How long have you been standing there?” She asks as Kaitlyn slips out of the room as quickly as possible. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs and takes the seat Kaitlyn had just vacated. “Long enough to know your vibrator is a <em>he</em>.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red with embarrassment. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyhow,” Scott continues, “I brought you another coffee, just in case that one’s cold.” He says, nodding to the paper cup on the vanity in front of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says, slightly taken off guard as she reaches out for the mug Scott’s holding. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches her take a sip of it, smiling as her eyes grow wide. “This isn’t the break room coffee.” She observes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “I get that from a little shop on the corner near my apartment.” He says. “I’m not really sure what it is… they call it a cremé something… I think… not sure what that means, but I think it’s pretty good.” He hesitates for a moment. “If you don’t like it that’s ok, don’t feel like you have to drink it.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “No, it’s good.” She says, narrowing her eyes slightly at Scott. “You didn’t have to do this.” She tells him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shrugs again. “I wanted to.” He says. “And any time you’re ready to toss me that apology, I’m all ears.” He chuckles at the way she holds herself back from an outburst as he stands up, toasting her with his mug of coffee and walking off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Really? </em>Tessa grumbles to herself as she makes her way over to her desk. What, does he really think she’s the one at fault for the coffee spilling? He’d been the one standing directly outside of the dressing room door.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The news went similarly to how it had gone Friday, with Scott interjecting his little comments and Tessa grinding her teeth as she tried not to get too rattled by them. </span>
  <span class="s1">Again, their producer, Marie, seemed incredibly pleased with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’d all like to just give another welcome to Scott!” Marie announces after they’d cut, and the whole crew breaks out in applause. Tessa grumbles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Our ratings have shown that people really enjoyed the banter on set last Friday, so Scott, here’s to you and welcome to team Five!” Marie presents him with a NewsCenter Five jacket, and Scott beams, thanking everyone for being so welcoming. Tessa tries not to pay attention to the way Marie brushes her hand over Scott’s bicep. They’re <em>nice</em>, she guesses. Whatever. Are they going to applaud him for that too?</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The rest of the week passes much the same, though Tessa is thankfully able to catch up on her sleep. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott still brings her coffee every day, and by Friday, Tessa has stopped brewing her own altogether, just expecting him to deliver her a mug while she’s in makeup. He doesn't disappoint. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatcha working on, kiddo?” He asks as he slips into the chair beside her as he’s done every day that week. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn't even look up from her notes this time, completely unsurprised that he’s there, though she does cringe at the nickname he’s bestowed upon her. He slides her mug across the vanity to rest in front of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looks… intellectual.” He says, glancing down at her pages of notes written in painfully neat handwriting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just a story I’ve been working on.” She says. “I think it might turn into something significant.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?” Scott asks. “I didn’t really know you did your own research.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa reorganises her notes and sets them carefully back in her satchel before standing and swinging it over her shoulder and taking her coffee in hand. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Surprised?” She asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head and takes a long sip of his own coffee. “Not at all. Glad I could help fuel the fire.” Scott says, nodding to her mug.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pulls her lips into a tight smile as she turns and walks away. Scott salutes her, gaze following her as she goes. He has a thing for her. He’ll admit it. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How are things with Trey?” Tessa asks Kaitlyn as they sit at the bar of their favourite little gastropub. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn shrugs. “Not great.” She admits, taking a long sip of her beer and using her napkin to fix her lipstick immediately afterward. “We actually broke up a week ago.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Kait, I’m so sorry, I had no idea! Why didn’t you tell me?” Tessa croons. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn shakes her head. “No, it’s alright, it was kind of a mutual thing at that point, there just wasn’t a lot between us anymore, you know? Like, no spark, really.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Still, breakups are always hard. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn shrugs again. “How about you?” Kaitlyn asks. “Got your eye on anyone?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa winces. “I don’t know, Kait. I just really… I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn can tell Tessa would rather talk about literally anything else, so she changes the subject. “What about that story you’re following?” She asks, and is rewarded with Tessa’s eyes lighting up excitedly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah! It looks like a promising lead!” She says. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly my first choice but I’m going to meet a couple of athletes. And we’ll see what pans out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn leans in closer. “And are you ok with this? Like… after everything…?” She asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip. “I’m not sure yet, I guess, but I just get a feelin-“ </span>
  <span class="s1">She trails off, staring past Kaitlyn, who turns around to see Andrew and Scott walking in the pub. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew catches sight of the girls first, and waves. </span>
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn waves back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We didn’t follow you here, we swear!” Andrew laughs as he takes a seat next to Tessa at the bar. Scott sits by Kaitlyn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’ve all had their share of fries and beer by the end of the night, and Andrew and Tessa are involved in a conversation about Andrew’s dance classes. He takes ballroom lessons on Thursday nights, but his partner’s just quit on him and he’s been trying to get Tessa to join him. He knows Tessa used to be a dancer - she used to be a really <em>great</em> dancer, but she got injured - and then there was the whole thing with her boyfriend that she never seems to address - and even though she’s healed, she hasn’t really been interested in it since. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, Kaitlyn might be free on Thursdays.” Tessa suggests, trying to get out of the conversation. She feels badly that Andrew doesn’t have a partner but that part of her life is over. She’s focusing on something else now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew considers it for a moment and waits for a break in Scott and Kaitlyn’s conversation. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Kait?” He asks. “You wanna dance with me?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn scrunches her face up in confusion. “Right now?” There’s a dance floor in the far corner of the pub where a few couples are dancing to slow music. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew shrugs. “Yeah, let’s try it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns and nods at Kaitlyn. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Umm…” Kaitlyn looks unsure but eventually agrees with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott and Tessa watch amusedly as the two of them make their way to the floor. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott looks back at Tessa, whose eyes are focused on Kaitlyn and Andrew. He takes the opportunity to slide into Kaitlyn’s seat, so he can sit next to Tessa, and they watch in silence as Andrew tries to show Kaitlyn proper positioning. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Scott are both surprised to see that Kaitlyn doesn’t need any guidance at all, and the two of them easily begin to move across the floor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think you just did something there, kiddo.” Scott comments with a laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So tell me about this story you’re looking into.” He says. “I mean jeez, I bring you coffee every day and you don’t give me <em>any</em> of the juicy details.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nothing yet.” Tessa says. “Well, I don’t know exactly. Maybe it is, but I don’t want to jinx it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And when will we know for sure?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to meet with a couple people tomorrow.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, wow.” Scott answers. “On your own?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa crosses her arms. “Yes.” She says, “On my own.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you’re the expert here, but is that safe?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses for a moment. She hadn’t actually considered that it might be unsafe. Perhaps that was naïve of her. “It’s fine.” She answers, trying to sound sure of herself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Look, I know I’m just the weatherman, but I’m totally willing to like, be your bodyguard. You know, just for the intimidation factor.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Scott asks. “You don’t think I’m intimidating?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not my first thought when I see you, no.” Tessa says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smirks. “What’s your first thought?” He asks, leaning closer. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes dart to his lips but then quickly back to his eyes. Her first thought is how <em>annoying </em>he is. He’s so annoying that she just wants to… Ugh, she wants to…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She watches his tongue dart out across his lips and inhales the scent of his cologne and watches the way he braces himself on the bar, his sleeves rolled up so she can see his strong forearms. <em>God, why does a weatherman need to have such strong arms? It’s obnoxious.</em> And then suddenly she blushes because she finally realises that she <em>likes </em>his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My first thought is to watch out that you don’t walk into me and spill my coffee everywhere, because that most definitely was <em>your </em>fault.” She blurts in an effort to force any redeeming qualities he may have from her head, and she waits for his stunned expression, but his smirk only grows wider and she wants to throw him against a wall and find a way to wipe it straight off his face. <em>Ok, calm down</em>. She tells herself. <em>Fuck. </em>She’s way too frustrated. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm.” He says lowly in a way that makes her bite her lip. “Well my first thought when I see you is that you’re definitely not one to be messed with, so you probably are fine without a body guard.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sits up a little higher in her seat, and Scott smiles. <em>She liked that. </em>He thinks. And it’s true - Tessa gives off the vibe that she means business, but Scott’s always been a bit of a trouble maker. He likes to mess with the un-messable. He likes to go where he doesn’t quite seem to belong.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you get a job at Five?” Tessa asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “What, don’t I fit the bill?” He already knows he doesn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a long sip of her beer. “You’ll have to forgive me for saying so but um… not quite.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. He takes pride in the fact that she sees he’s different. He’s not cutthroat the way most people have to be. He hopes she finds it refreshing. “I guess they liked my personality.” He shrugs. “And I’m pretty popular with the <em>females-over-forty</em> demographic.” He grins. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He says. “I bet you’re pretty popular with the <em>men-of-all-ages</em> demographic.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares at him, blushing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was that too much?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s smiling now and it makes Scott feel better that he hasn’t gone too far in telling her she’s attractive. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d like to think I’m valued more for my journalistic contributions to the channel.” She says quietly, though she knows he was joking, and she is quite flattered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course.” Scott says. “I mean - you are. I don’t think they offer field stories to just anyone, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You should be really proud.” Scott says. “And I know you’re a great anchor in general. I uh - watched you for a while before I applied.” Then his face turns red. “I mean I watched the network. Jesus. That sounds creepy. I watched the network. I saw your stories and I thought they were great. They all have purpose.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s laughing now. It’s fun to watch him talk himself into a hole. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks at her horrified, but when he sees her jovial expression and is sure she knows he isn’t some creepy stalker he laughs too. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And that’s why I’m <em>not </em>an anchor.” Scott says sheepishly. “I really respect what you do. I could never do it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Tessa says, surprised at the genuine compliment. “How’d you get into weather?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well I used to -“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess!” Kaitlyn is yelling to her, “Scott, Tess! Come dance!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks at Tessa who flushes and shakes her head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes! Come on!” Kaitlyn comes over with Andrew and pulls on Tessa’s hand, dragging her off her stool and pulling Scott along with the other hand. “Dance!” She giggles. “It’s so fun.” She’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, especially since she’s seems to have forgotten how averse Tessa is to dancing, but Andrew seems to be having fun regardless. He’s looking at her like Kaitlyn the best thing he’s ever seen. Tessa’s hardly ever seen Andrew look like he’s having <em>this</em> much fun. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns back and looks up at Scott who shrugs and offers her a hand. “May I?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa shies away, “I don’t really dance.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on, I promise I’ll go easy on you.” Scott says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bristles. <em>He thinks he’s a better dancer than I am… </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She's a bit shaky as he leads her over to the dance floor and holds her hips. Tessa takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm and just get through one song, but as soon as they start moving, she feels like she’s going to have a panic attack.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pushes away from Scott and sees for the first time a look of unconcealed disappointment on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have to get home!” She says to him over the music.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Scott says. “Let me drive you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s surprised that he offers. She supposes she wouldn’t mind that. And she’s so flustered that she forgets her car is parked outside the bar as she bids goodbye to Kaitlyn and Andrew who are still so caught up dancing that they barely acknowledge that she and Scott are leaving. <em>It’s for the best</em>, Tessa thinks. She doesn’t need her friends speculating on whether or not she and Scott went home for <em>different</em> reasons. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You good, kiddo?” Scott asks as she climbs into his car. He’s got a pickup truck, a silver pickup in the middle of the <em>city. </em>Tessa hates to think about the gas mileage. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pushes the thoughts from her mind. “I’m good.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I uh… need an address.” Scott says after they sit there in silence for a few short moments. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa flushes. She’s not used to feeling this way. She’s not sure whether she likes it or not. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gives him her address and he smiles and puts the car into gear. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Country music comes on the station and Tessa cringes and reflexively turns the dial to a <em>better </em>station. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not a country fan?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s so distracted that she hasn’t even realised she’s changed the station until he comments on it. She claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She says. But then she remembers that she’s Tessa Virtue and this is the guy who spilled coffee all over her and calls her <em>kiddo. </em>“But this station is objectively better.” She adds. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m a gentleman.” Scott says, “So I’ll let you choose the station and I won’t lecture you about why country music is superior to every other genre.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tsks. “That’s the <em>Ilderton</em> in you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins that she can reference his hometown. “And <em>this”</em> He gestures to the radio playing some hoppy classic rock song, “is the London in <em>you</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh, one that Scott’s not heard from her before, and it’s so very enticing that it has him looking away from the road a bit too long to watch her throw her head back and expose her long neck and bare upper chest where her collarbones are carved so beautifully into her porcelain skin. Her eyes close and her thick lashes are angled downward and Scott’s never seen or heard anything so beautiful in all his life. It genuinely takes his breath away and if he wasn’t already committed to breaking through the professional image Tessa Virtue puts on to see her more personal sides, he sure is now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lowers her head and opens her glimmering green eyes and gasps, “Scott! Red light, red light!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s gripping the door now and Scott turns back to the road and slams on the breaks, throwing an arm out in front of her as if he could protect her from whatever dangers they might be hurtling toward.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything’s still for a moment. Scott hadn’t been going very fast. The worst thing that would have happened would’ve been they bumped the car in front of them. But he realises Tessa’s clutching his arm, and her red-lacquered nails digging into him. Is it wrong that the first thing he thinks about is how he’d like them scraping across his back instead? </span>
  <span class="s1">And then he realises Tessa’s <em>terrified</em> and thinks that <em>yes</em>, that <em>is</em> wrong of him. He apologises profusely. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just got - I was distracted and Jesus. Fuck, I’m sorry. Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and lets out a breath. They’re only a few blocks from her apartment. She’ll walk the rest of the way. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Can you just pull over here?” She asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s heart sinks. “Tessa, let me drive you, I swear I’m not normally like that, I’m so sorry. I hardly had one beer and that was hours ago, I was…” He trails off when he realises it’s a losing battle. She’s too shaken up. “Can I walk you home?” He asks softly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa swallows hard and nods. “Ok.” She says. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s shaking when she gets out of the car and she hates herself for appearing weak, vulnerable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks so demoralised. Inside he feels like he’s been wrecked. Tessa doesn’t like seeing him this way. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She says softly as they begin walking together. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No - Tess, don’t apologise! Why would you need to be sorry?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know if I overreacted.” She says. “Sometimes I do that in cars.” She’s being far more candid than she wants to be but she can’t help it. There’s something about him that makes him so easy to talk to, and she doesn’t like seeing him upset. She realises that they wouldn’t have died and lets out a shaky breath. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She says again, and she stops walking. “Can I sit down? I need - I need to sit down for a minute.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. Yeah, Tess. Let’s sit, please.” Scott says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She thinks it’s strange to hear him so concerned about something when all she’s seen from him previously has been Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s sweet, holding her arm and walking with her to a bench. He sits beside her, his leg pressed up against hers. He’s so close to her. Normally Tessa likes her space in these situations when she’s panicking, but it’s actually quite comforting to feel him there. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so sorry.” He keeps saying.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grabs his arm again and he shuts up. She closes her eyes tightly, tries not to get too worked up, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” She hears Scott’s voice soft in her ear. “Hey, it’s ok.” He says. He gingerly wraps his free arm around her. “s'okay.” He says again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa exhales a deep breath and nods, her eyes still closed, and then she shakes her head. “I was in a bad accident once and it just sort of makes everything worse when something like that happens.” Tessa says softly. She leaves out the gory personal details. She doesn’t want to get into it just now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott feels like he’s been kicked in the chest. “Oh.” He sighs. “Oh God, Tessa, I’m so sorry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “No, it’s been years.” She says. “I just still have flashbacks and when stuff like that happens - I mean I know I overreacted-“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, not at all. You didn’t. That wasn’t - um. That was all my fault. I’m so sorry.” Scott says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “It’s alright.” She says, and she realises how hard she’s holding onto his arm and releases him. “I’m sorry.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head back. “Don’t be.” He says. “Please, don’t be sorry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s embarrassed. She doesn’t like showing this side of herself and Scott can sense her discomfort. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you know when you spilled your coffee?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him like <em>what the fuck, dude?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My fault.” He says, trying to level with her. He wants to embarrass himself too. He holds his hands up. “It was probably my fault. Sometimes I can be kind of a klutz, I keep bringing it up because I want a reason to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs a teary laugh and Scott lets out a breath. “It <em>was </em>your fault.” She says, hitting him in the chest and smiling at him. He smiles back. “I think the jury’s technically still out, but coffee’s on me for the foreseeable future. Until I know you can be trusted carrying hot beverages.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffs, but is grateful for the distraction. She sees what he’s doing and she appreciates that he seems to know it’s just what she needs. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Maybe I should take your keys until I know you can be trusted behind the wheel.” She says, watching the edges of his eyes crinkle when she jokes back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wouldn’t be averse to seeing you behind the wheel of a pickup.” He says. And <em>Jesus, is he really flirting? </em>He internally scolds himself but wait… <em>she’s still smiling</em>. <em>Is she blushing? </em>His heart beats a bit faster.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll take the coffee. You can have your stupid truck.” She says standing and brushing nonexistent wrinkles from her dark jeans. “It’s superfluous in the city.” She starts walking away leaving him stunned there before he clamours from the bench to follow her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you calling my truck <em>extra?</em>” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs again and it’s that same laugh that caused Scott to look away from the road in the first place. He loves it just as much. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, excuse me.” He says, “She’s <em>utilitarian</em>. No matter what kind of terrain, she’s got my back.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, your truck’s a <em>she</em>?” Tessa asks bemused. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t think before blurting out, “Yeah, well your vibrator’s a <em>he</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns to him and Scott’s prepared for her to slap him. He deserves it, he thinks, but she’s smirking. God, he just can’t figure this woman out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, and I’m going to need him tonight to relieve the stress of whatever <em>that</em> was.” She waves in the direction of the road but Scott’s so caught up in what she’s just said that he doesn’t process it. All he can do is stand there with his mouth ajar as he thinks about her with a <em>vibrator. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip. She’s pleased with herself for rendering him speechless. And Scott’s got some kind of emotional whiplash, going from apologetic to depressed to turned on the way he is now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is me.” Tessa says, stopping at a set of stone stairs that lead up to a whitestone. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott garbles some words, and Tessa smiles proudly again that she’s done that to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell your car I said thanks for the ride. It was very nice of her.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott clears his throat. “Yeah. Yep.” He says horsely, and then he works up the courage to say, “Tell your vibrator he’s a lucky guy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip again to stop her smile from getting wider. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you.” She says softly, and then climbs the stairs and slips inside. She <em>is </em>going to need her vibrator tonight. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Serious</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wakes up early the next morning and thank goodness because she’s left her car by the bar, so she ends up having to run the roughly nine blocks there in heels. </span>
  <span class="s1">When she gets there though, the car’s gone. She’s been towed for street cleaning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck!” She curses out loud and sends a flock of pigeons in the alley next to her flying. </span>
  <span class="s1">She rings Kaitlyn twice with no luck, and then Andrew the same number of times with the same result. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” She says. “Fuck.” She runs her hands through her hair. She supposes she could take a Lyft? She opens the app but can’t find someone that will drive all the way to Foxmead. </span>
  <span class="s1">She sighs and resorts to calling Scott. Maybe a bodyguard wouldn’t be so bad after all. </span>
  <span class="s1">He does answer, much to her relief, and seems incredibly surprised that she’s calling. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” He asks, like it might not really be her that’s calling. They exchanged phone numbers for work purposes and Tessa didn’t think she’d be using his number any time soon, but here she is. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” She says. “About that bodyguard offer…” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pulls up the the curb about twenty minutes later. “You good?” He asks as she climbs in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She flushes, embarrassed to tell him she forgot she’d driven to the bar last night, so she just nods, and he doesn’t ask, even though it’s probably pretty obvious. She appreciates it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott plugs the address into his GPS even though Tessa’s sure she could direct him, and they’re off in a hurry. </span>
  <span class="s1">He brought a travel mug of coffee just for her, and she’s glad for it because she could really use it right about now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa watches out of the corner of her eye the way Scott’s gripping the clutch, the veins in his hand and forearm straining slightly when he switches gears. It’s… <em>pleasant</em>. She supposes, and then she rolls her eyes at herself and makes herself look away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So… how was your night?” Scott asks. He can’t <em>not</em> bring it up, even though he knows he should let it go. The better part of his night was made up of him imagining her at home with her vibrator. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks over at him and narrows her eyes. “Better than my morning.” She says and leaves it at that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “You wanna talk about it?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My vibrator?” Tessa asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The interview.” Scott says, concealing a smile. “Though I’m open to talking about that as well.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s face flushes. “No it’s ok.” She says. She doesn’t much feel like talking right now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Andrew went home with Kaitlyn last night.” Scott says. “He texted me at like two in the morning so they were out late.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says, slightly surprised at this new development, though she supposes they would make a nice couple, and it explains why neither of them answered their phone. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think you should be nervous.” Scott says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m <em>not</em> nervous.” Tessa shoots back immediately, though she definitely is starting to feel nervous for a number of reasons. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok, well that’s good.” Scott says, “Because, like I said, I don’t think you should be. Nobody’s going to mess with you while I’m around.” He’s joking, but Tessa swallows hard because it actually does make her feel a bit better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But seriously,” Scott says, “If never met someone as prepared and put together as you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t answer, just stares out the window and tries to breathe to calm herself down. There’s too much dark history being brought up all of a sudden and she’s starting to think maybe choosing this particular story has been a mistake. Especially when it hits her so personally. But no. That’s part of the job. She needs to be tough on herself and learn to distance her personal connections from the story. This isn’t about her, it’s about all the other athletes that have had their lives flipped upside down. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lets out a shaking breath and Scott looks over at her. “You look pretty badass.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks over at him and smiles weakly. He’s been nothing but incredibly nice to her and he’s taking his weekend to shuttle her around. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for doing this.” She says. “I really appreciate it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “No big deal.” He says. “I’m just glad I get to see you in action.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I haven’t done this before.” Tessa reminds him. “I’m not sure how much action there will be.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, with you? All action, I’m sure.” Scott says, smiling at her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. She’s <em>not</em> so sure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s the story anyway?” He asks, “You never told me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s um…” Tessa trails off, shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Would you mind if we didn’t talk about it right now?” She asks. “I think I just need to take a break from it before I dive in.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Yeah, of course.” He says. “Here.” He turns the radio on to the station she had on last night, doesn’t make a snide comment about country music, just lets her sit there quietly and listen to the music she likes. He can tell she’s very nervous, but he’s not quite sure why. She looks like a million bucks - as per usual. She’s got on a navy pant-suit with a white undershirt and this green necklace that goes perfectly with her eyes. She’s wearing smart black heels and silver hoop earrings that Scott can see from the corner of his eye as he steals glances at her. Her lips are bright red - probably from chewing on them so much to combat her nerves, but it works for her all the same. Her dark hair is down and slightly wavy and she’s wearing this perfume that Scott already knows he’s not going to be able to get out of his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And besides the intimidation factor of her looks, he already knows she’s whip smart and more prepared than anyone ever needs to be, so he knows she’ll land on her feet no matter what happens. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tries to think of something else supportive to say, but she’s looking out the window and clearly lost in her own world, so he leaves her be. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they get there, Tessa stares at the little house. They’re way up North and it’s quite rural. The house is small and white, but with a lawn that’s obviously been cared for, despite the overgrown fields behind it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a moment to collect herself before unbuckling her seatbelt and then turns to Scott. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to come in.” She tells him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you not want me to?” He tries not to sound too disappointed, but he really was excited to see her work, and he does want to know what kind of a story would pique the interest of one Ms. Tessa Virtue. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um… I mean, you can if you want to.” She says. She doesn’t have the heart to say she’d rather him not when he’s just driven her all the way here. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you don’t mind.” Scott says. “You won’t even know I’m there, I promise. Just strictly bodyguard duties.” He says, and smiles at her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles weakly back and gets out of the car. </span>
  <span class="s1">The two of them walk to the door and Tessa knocks. </span>
  <span class="s1">They hear something on the other side, and then the door flings open to reveal a petite woman with long dark hair and very pale skin. She’s in a gingham green sundress, and behind her there’s a man with curly blonde hair and a sweet smile in a t-shirt and jeans. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Meryl Davis?” Tessa inquires. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman smiles and opens the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So nice to meet you Mrs. Virtue.” Meryl says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott bristles for a moment but is put at ease when Tessa corrects her, “Ms.” She says, offering her hand. They shake. “And you must be Mr. Charlie White.” Tessa says, offering him her hand as well. He seems very friendly as they exchange pleasantries. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is Scott.” Tessa says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The weatherman?” Charlie asks, furrowing his brow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh…” Scott stumbles, trying to think of a reason why he would be here other than one that would reveal Tessa’s unfortunate car situation this morning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s also an audio engineer.” Tessa says quickly, and Scott’s already impressed with her quick wit. She hands him a recording device that he’s glad to see is pretty self explanatory. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl and Charlie accept this answer without question and offer them a seat in their living room while Meryl retrieves some tea for them. </span>
  <span class="s1">She walks with a defined limp and Charlie offers to help her with the tea but she waves him off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sits beside Tessa on the sofa and places the recording device on the table, hitting the red button. He’d rather get too much than too little. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles reassuringly at him while Charlie takes a seat in one of the armchairs across from them. </span>
  <span class="s1">After bringing in the tea, Meryl joins him in the adjacent armchair. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Tessa begins, “I know this is a difficult subject to speak on and I truly appreciate you two taking the time to do this. I think it could do a lot of good for a lot of athletes that have already had to deal with this, and can hopefully spark some awareness for the repercussions of such accidents. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl and Charlie nod and Scott chews his lip nervously. <em>This sounds serious. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I guess, if you don’t mind, Meryl, would you like to start with your story?” Tessa asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl nods and in a quiet and shaky voice begins to recount her days as a professional ice dancer. She talks about she and Charlie’s accomplishments, their day-to-day life, and their head coach. And then she starts talking about the performance that changed the trajectory of both their lives.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I trusted Charlie with my life.” She says, looking down at her hands. Charlie runs his hands through his hair and lets out a deep breath, reaching over and offering Meryl a hand. She takes it and Scott can see how tightly she’s gripping it - her knuckles have gone white.<br/>
“I still do. But it took me a long time to get back to that point.” Meryl trails off and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.” She whispers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tessa says quickly, her voice hoarse. “Please, take your time, you’re so brave for doing this, Meryl.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl wipes at her eyes and nods. Charlie squeezes her hand. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It was toward the end of our free dance - not even a big competition, there weren’t even cameras there, which I was really thankful for after the fact.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods understandingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And the lift was one we’d practiced hundreds of times. We were so solid on it, we really were. I never thought anything would go wrong.” Meryl looks directly at Tessa. “I know that sounds stupid.” She says, “I know that sounds ignorant or whatever, but that’s really how comfortable we felt with it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “It makes sense when you practice something that much.” She says quietly, and Scott looks over at her. She’s shaking slightly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl continues. “But I just didn’t get enough of a grip on his arm when he lifted me and I couldn’t correct myself in time and he of course wasn’t expecting it…” She looks over at Charlie who nods to her reassuringly. </span>
  <span class="s1">“And I just fell and landed in a really awful way, just… right on my head, really. I was bleeding all over the place - or that’s what they told me afterward.” She gulps. “It was like a switch flipped. I mean, the lights just went right out. Everything was black but I could hear everyone scrambling around me. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital and Charlie was there next to me. ” She looks over at Charlie and smiles. “He was there with me the whole time.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “I’m so sorry that happened, Meryl.” She says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl shakes her head. “It’s alright. I just remember thinking like, oh God, we lost at one of the easiest competitions we’d be in all year.” She laughs a bit. “I didn’t know how hurt I was.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But when the doctor told me I might never walk again I got really upset. I cried and screamed and - I mean, I couldn’t move but if I could have I probably would have beaten Charlie up.” She looks over at him and he smiles weakly at her. “I blamed him for quite a while after that and I really shouldn’t have because it wasn’t his fault. I know that now. And he was there for me the whole time even when I hated him.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and Scott lets out a deep breath. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So anyway, after a lot of P.T. and a lot of tears and anger and a lot of therapy, I eventually was able to start moving my legs and I just knew I could never give up because well - Charlie wouldn’t let me for one.” She looks over at him and laughs. “And I knew how many little girls were looking up to me and I hated the thought of them thinking that when things get hard they should just give up, you know?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s biting her lip but she nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I kept working at it until I could walk again and I mean - you saw me - it’s not perfect, but I can do it, and I can even skate a bit too.” Meryl says, smiling.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods again. “That’s an incredible story, Meryl, it truly is, and to see how far you come is certainly inspiring. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles to himself. She sounds like <em>such</em> a reporter. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If I can just interject.” He says, and Tessa glares at him ferociously, which, honestly, he <em>really</em> likes. “I know I’m just the weather - uh - audio guy, but I just want to say that that’s fucking badass and you should be on cereal boxes and stuff.” He turns to Tessa, who’s still glaring. “I mean, am I right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl laughs and blushes, and Tessa hates that he’s flattered her. “Yes.” She says sharply and turns back to Meryl. “Meryl I really do think this story is going to be so inspirational. The angle I’m going for is that nobody needs to be perfect to do what they love. I know you’re coaching now and still very active in figure skating, and I think it’s amazing that you’re still doing it for the love of it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl nods. “Yeah, I really love coaching and just being on the ice in any capacity adds so much joy to my life. Especially when I watch Charlie and Tanith too.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa cocks her head and looks at Charlie. “Oh, that’s my partner.” He clarifies, and Meryl and Charlie both laugh at the confused looks on Tessa and Scott’s faces. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mer wanted me to keep skating.” Charlie says. “I wanted to quit after what happened quite honestly. I felt so much guilt over it, but after she got finished berating me,” Charlie looks over at Meryl and winks, and she smiles back, “she wouldn’t quit bugging me about how I couldn’t give up skating. So I eventually met Tanith and we’ve been partners ever since.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow.” Scott says, and Tessa wants to elbow him but restrains herself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I ask why you’re interested in our story in particular?” Meryl inquires. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tenses up like she’s not expected this question. “I’ve heard similar stories from athletes.” She manages to say. “I thought… I just wanted to see how something so frightening can become positive.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meryl nods. “Oh.” She says, tears in her eyes. “Thank you so much. I - It really means everything. I’ve always thought it was such an important message to share, and I kept thinking of all the other athletes that go through the same thing without any support. I don’t want them to feel alone. Thank you so much.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stands up and makes her way over to Tessa who stands to embrace Meryl. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa just nods. “Of course.” She says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s just watching everything in awe. This story she’s chosen, Meryl, how Tessa’s handling things… he’s in awe. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the two women pull apart, Tessa looks back at Scott and nods toward the recording device. He gets the message and shuts it off. The group says their goodbyes and Tessa tells Meryl she’ll be in touch shortly with more details about the story going forward. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then she and Scott are back in the car, pulling away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott blurts out almost as soon as they’re out of the drive, “Wow! I mean… Wow! You were amazing! That was amazing!” He turns to Tessa beaming, but the smile is quickly wiped from his face when he sees her, her face turned toward the window, her hands up wiping at her cheeks so he won’t see the tears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh. Hey.” Scott says. He’s not quite sure what to do so he pulls over. “Hey. Tessa.” He reaches over and touches her arm, but she jolts away from him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh. I’m sorry.” He says quickly. “Tessa, I -“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t believe how unprofessional you were.” She says, wiping furiously at her face and then turning to him. It just about breaks his heart to see her that way - her eyes so full of sadness and her cheeks flushed from crying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” Scott says quickly. “I didn’t mean to be I just… wanted to be honest with her since she was being so honest with us.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s silent.<em> That’s a good answer. </em>She thinks annoyedly, and remembers how at ease it seemed to put Meryl. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asks her, reaching for her again only to have her pull away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine.” She grumbles and crosses her arms. She’s annoyed with him and his stupid candid personality and she doesn’t like that he’s seen her crying now. Another moment of weakness. Ugh. She’s angry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I really don't think she minded." Scott says, and Tessa glares at him again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm not crying because of <em>you</em>." She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. He's kind of figured that. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Tessa, can I know you want other people to hear this story and clearly it means a lot to you. Can I ask why?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tenses again and then looks at Scott and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “You can’t.” And then she looks apologetic. He’s taken his Saturday to shuttle her about. “I just can’t right now. I - will you drive me home please?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “‘course.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turns the radio back on and they drive in silence for most of the way, Scott glancing over at Tessa to make sure she’s alright every so often. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they get back to the city, he pulls up in front of her house. “Do you know where your car is?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says. She’s completely forgotten about it. “Yeah it’s… I got towed.” She says. Scott nods. He’s figured as much. “I can give you a lift to the tow yard.” He offers, hoping she’ll take him up on it. He doesn’t want to leave things the way they are with her so upset. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t…” She shakes her head. “I’ll just walk over later.” She says turning to him. “Thank you for everything.” She says. “I’m so sorry about my um… for getting emotional. It wasn’t very professional.” She just wants to get out of there at this point. She’s embarrassed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, we were talking about your vibrator the other day. I think we’re past needing to be professional around each other.” He says, joking, trying to make her smile, but she doesn’t. </span>
  <span class="s1">“And I should let you know," He continues, "it’s going to rain in about thirty minutes, so if you want to get your car taken care of now, I really don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa eyes him skeptically. “It’s not supposed to rain.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “All I know is that I saw some mean looking nimbus on the way back and if I’m not mistaken the wind is blowing this way.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re serious?” She asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As a microburst.” Scott says, and Tessa rolls her eyes. Scott smiles sheepishly. “Meteorology humour.” He says, shrugging.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” Tessa sighs. “Why not.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins and pulls away from the curb, driving off to the tow yard. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pays the fee to get her car back and Scott walks her to her car. “Thanks for letting me watch you in action today, kiddo.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grimaces at the nickname. “I’m usually not that emotional.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, nothing wrong with emotion.” He tells her. “Sometimes I get emotional when I see a particularly nice warm front moving in on the radar.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles despite wanting to still feel angry with him. “Hey, it didn’t rain.” She says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “Could’ve sworn I saw those clouds coming this way.” He says. He’s not so disappointed he got to spend more time with her and she supposes she isn’t either. She’s feeling a bit better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyway, I’ll see you Monday, eh?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “See you Monday.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They part ways and not five minutes later on her drive back to the apartment, the sky suddenly turns dark and it begins to pour. Tessa smiles and laughs.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Even</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Filling in a few blanks but not rly haha thanks to everyone for the feedback!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa spends the remainder of her weekend researching another athlete she’s been in contact with - Mari Turner, a doubles volleyball player who’d made it to the olympic trials with her partner only to be injured a week before in a bike accident. </span>
  <span class="s1">She also went back through the audio from Meryl and Charlie and wrote out the parts she’d like most to focus on. She knew she’d be seeing the couple again, preferably so they could make statements on their own. She really wanted them to have their own voice, not just hers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sunday was tough. Going through the audio brought everything back up again and Tessa found herself curled up on her sofa clutching a pillow to her chest and crying while she tried her hardest to think about anything else. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Luckily, Kaitlyn provided a welcome distraction, calling her up to chat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hello?” Tessa answers, trying her best to sound composed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess! So sorry I missed your calls the other day. I had a weird weekend. You ok?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m good, thanks.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How was the interview?” Kaitlyn asks cautiously. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip. “It was good.” She says. “Um. Hard, you know… but good. Scott came with me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn chokes on her coffee. “What?” She laughs. “Wait, what?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa details the incident of her car getting towed, and then Scott’s very… <em>candid</em> outburst and Kaitlyn laughs. “Wow, Tess. Sounds like he was actually kind of a nice distraction.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses a moment and thinks about this. Was he a <em>nice </em>distraction or was he just a distraction? </span>
  <span class="s1">“I mean it was very <em>nice</em> of him to do that on his day off.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, seriously.” Kaitlyn replies. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses again, thinks maybe she needs to be the one to bring him coffee on Monday. “Wait a minute.” She says to Kaitlyn. “Did I hear you went home with Andrew?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kaitlyn laughs. “Yeah, in the most literal way possible. We were kind of bombed and just collapsed on my bed and slept. He’s really nice.” Kaitlyn says. “I think I’m going to be his dance partner.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grins. “I love that.” She says.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The next morning, Tessa gets to work early with coffee from her favourite shop for Scott in hopes of leaving a cup on his desk before he leaves one on hers. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s just placing it down on his desk when she hears behind her, “Tryna steal my thunder, eh?” </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa jumps nearly a foot in the air, knocking the coffee over onto Scott’s desk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck!” She hisses, and grabs a bunch of tissues from the box on his desk to mop up the mess before any papers are damaged.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott rushes over to help her. “Thunder, get it? More meteorology humour. Figured I should work on it since you weren’t so impressed last time.” He says, and his eyes are so friendly it puts Tessa at ease. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’s not even a little concerned about the spill. <em>How is he so easy going? </em>Tessa can already feel the tension from the stress of it in her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I thought we said coffee on <em>me</em> for the foreseeable future.” Scott says. “Or did you literally mean <em>on </em>me?” He chuckles, tossing a bunch of coffee laden tissues into the bin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa flushes. “I’m sorry.” She says. “No, I - I just wanted to thank you for driving me around on Saturday.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “It really was no big deal.” He says, and then he picks up the coffee cup and reads the label. <em>Coco’s</em>, eh? He asks. “That’s your coffee place? I’m intrigued.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s really good.” She says. “I’m sorry, I just - you scared me!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott crosses his arms. “Oh so this time is my fault too?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No I… I mean… It’s…” Tessa stutters. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just kidding.” He says. He thinks it’s kind of funny how worked up she gets over nothing.“It’s not <em>not </em>my fault.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His eyes are so bright and Tessa thinks that it’s way too early in the morning for her to be dealing with this.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“In fact, an olive branch. How about you show me where this Coco’s is and I’ll buy - lunch, coffee, dinner, whatever you want.” Scott suggests.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If you want.” He says. “Just trying to set us even.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Tessa says. “I’m only free for an hour after work. I have a lot to do with the story I’m working on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “An hour after work is perfect.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The show goes well that day and midway though, when they’re on break, Scott and Andrew are hanging out in the break room.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So you and Tess?” Andrew asks hopefully. He’s been wanting her to get back out there lately. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head though. “I drove her home. And then to her interview the next day.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“She let you go to the interview?” Andrew asks, surprised. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean… I don’t know if she <em>let</em> me but she needed a ride so I gave her one.” Scott says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Gotcha.” Andrew says, washing his mug out in the sink. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, can I ask uh… you and Tessa… were you ever?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Andrew laughs and claps Scott on the back. “Nah, just friends.” He says. “Tess doesn’t do relationships, I just thought... I don't know. She seems to like you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott balks. "She does?" </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Andrew laughs. She can have a funny way of showing it I guess. She's just focused on work. And guarded as fuck."  </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott says. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Andrew shrugs. “Bad breakup, I guess. I don’t really know the story, she doesn’t talk about it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott accepts this answer, focusing mostly on the fact that Andrew's observed that Tessa seems to like him. It makes him feel accomplished for some reason.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">After work that day, Scott meets Tessa in the parking lot. </span>
  <span class="s1">“You driving?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tenses up. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean... I don’t know where it is uh, I thought it would be easier if we just took one car but if you want I can drive.” Scott says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I would rather you drive.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Ok, sure.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa climbs into his car and just as soon as she buckles her seatbelt she crosses her arms. She’s feeling defensive and she doesn’t quite know why. He hasn’t asked her reasoning for not wanting to drive him. It hasn’t even seemed to phase him. In fact, Scott is purposely not acknowledging it because he knows she doesn't want to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She directs Scott to the café and once they get there they’re seated quickly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So.” Scott says, looking over the menu. “What do you normally have here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. “I usually only get coffee.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” He asks. “Hm. Ok so I’m ordering blind. This is exciting.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa cracks a small smile. “I don’t know if I’d call it exciting.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure it is.” He says. “If not for the mystery food than because Canada’s very own Tessa Virtue is dining with me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles shyly and Scott finds it rather adorable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I wanted to apologise again for speaking out of turn the way I did Saturday. I said I’d be quiet and I wasn’t. I really am sorry for that, Tessa.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I know. It’s alright.” She says. “I overreacted. I was just feeling a bit anxious - it’s my first big project.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. Totally understandable.” He says. “I wouldn’t call it an overreaction. And I’m sorry if I pried by asking you why you chose that specific topic.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “It’s ok, it was a reasonable question.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do I get a reasonable answer then?” He knows he’s pushing it, but to his surprise, Tessa nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I feel really personally connected to stories like theirs.” She says, vaguely. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. He’s not going to ask her for more. If she wanted to share she would. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Can I ask another reasonable question?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s lips twitch just ever so slightly up into a smile. “How do I know it’s a reasonable question?” She asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hm.” Scott nods. “Fair point. Alright. You let me know if it’s reasonable, how’s that?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa considers this before saying, “Do I get to ask a reasonable question back?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Sure.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” Tessa says. “Shoot.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you give all your inanimate possessions pronouns?” He asks and watches as Tessa breaks out into a beautiful (and very relieved) smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I suppose that’s reasonable.” She says. “No, just my favourites.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles back. “Interesting.” He says, and raises an eyebrow. "How do you determine which are your favourites?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggles. He obviously has one object in particular in mind. “You said <em>one </em>question. It’s my turn.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The waiter comes by and takes their order while Tessa thinks of a question. “Why did you decide to become a meteorologist?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s a long story.” Scott says with a smile still on his face. “The gist of it is that I like being able to warn people of the bad things. I like being able to point to them on a map and see where they come from. You know, I’ve seen some pretty crazy storms but when you analyze patterns, you can track them and see how they originate - it’s usually just a bunch of hot and cold air.” He shrugs. “Makes them seem less scary.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chews her lip as she thinks about this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not every storm is predictable.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “You’re right, but only if the observer doesn’t pick up on the patterns.” He says. “And those unpredictable storms are often the worst and the hardest to deal with.” He sighs. “It’s not a perfect science, but this isn’t a perfect world.” He looks up at her to see her wringing her hands and wishes he could just get inside her head for a moment, just to hear what she’s thinking. “But we can’t live like the unpredictable storms are the rule, because they’re not. And the chances of someone experiencing two completely unpredictable storms are astronomical.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa meets his eyes and a kind of jolt goes through his body at the intensity he sees there. “Sometimes people don’t live past the first storm to even get the chance to see a second.” Tessa says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott takes a shaky breath. He just wishes he had more context. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The waiter comes at that moment to deliver their food. Scott’s ordered a sandwich and Tessa has soup and each of them have coffee on the side. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Anyway,” Tessa says, blowing some of the steam from her bowl. “How long have you been a meteorologist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Three years.” He says, and then he breaks into a huge smile. “You sneak!” He laughs that she’s asked him two questions in a row, and Tessa leans back in her chair with a very satisfied smirk on her face. “That’s why you’re such a great interviewer, I didn’t even realise you were asking another question.” Scott says and enjoys the way she looks so happy now. “<em>My turn.” </em>He says. “What made you want to become an anchor?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles. “That’s easy.” She says. “I love telling stories. And if they can help people or speak to them in a certain way, even better.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. He loves that answer and yet knows there’s so much more there she’s not telling him. He feels more determined than ever to figure her out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me.” There’s a little voice from beside Tessa and Scott turns to see a small girl there smiling shyly, her mother beside her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, sweetheart,” Tessa says, “what’s up?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches on completely befuddled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um… I was wondering if I could maybe have your autograph?” She asks, barely able to look at Tessa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles warmly and leans over to run her hand down the girl’s arm. “Of course.” She says. “I love your tutu, it’s so pretty. Are you just coming from practice?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The girl nods. Tessa takes a slip of paper and a pen from the girl’s mum who thanks her. Tessa asks the girl her name and writes a little message out for her before handing her back the paper. “So nice meeting you, Lizzie.” Tessa says sweetly. “Good luck with your show.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The girl thanks her and is off. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa watches with a laugh as the girl starts jumping up and down now and clutching the little paper tightly. She’s suddenly not so shy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Uh wow. I mean I knew you were special but I didn’t realise I’m sitting with <em>royalty</em>.” Scott says, a bit starstruck himself now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffs and waves him away. “That doesn’t happen often.” She says, blushing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Was she just like a huge news fan or…?” Scott’s trying to figure it out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs. “Yeah, maybe.” She says. She likes him thinking that better than the alternative. She doesn't want to talk about ballet. She never really wants to talk about ballet, but she’ll never turn a little girl asking for an autograph away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Damn.” Scott says. “Guess I gotta step up my game.” He thinks for a moment. “Maybe more meteorology jokes.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa throws her head back. “Ugh, no.” She says, half laughing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” Scott asks. “Chill-dren love a good weather pun.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa just shakes her head. “That was your worst one yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” He says. “Might not be the biggest hit with the kids.” He pauses. “<em>You</em> like them, though.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa eyes him for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “I… don’t not <em>not</em> like them.” She says, repeating his double negative use from earlier.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott beams. “Ehh that was good, I appreciate that, but it would be ‘I don’t <em>not </em>like them.’ Keep workin’ on it, kiddo, you’ll get there.” He says, reaching over to her plate and grabbing one of the saltine crackers that came with her soup to munch on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa raises her eyebrows at him but he just keeps chewing happily. </span>
  <span class="s1">She's not even sure what to think of him anymore. She can’t decide if he’s the most annoying person she’s ever met or if she maybe actually might kind of… <em>like</em> him. He’s ok… sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles and takes a bite of his sandwich. “So what’s next for your big project?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I have to do a film segment.” She says, “So I’ll probably get the camera guy to come over to the rink where Meryl coaches with me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?” Scott asks. “That sounds really fun.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s so interested that he's talking with his mouth full which would normally repulse Tessa but she’s not all that bothered by it just now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you need an audio guy?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares at him for a moment, considers it, but eventually shakes her head. No. This is personal and she doesn’t need another repeat of last time. “I really appreciate your help last time, but I think I’d rather just do this on my own.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods, tries his best to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, no problem.” He says. “Do you skate?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “Not really, I um… well, I used to a bit but I quit when I was very young - do you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I played a bit of hockey in my day, nothing crazy, but I can get around alright.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s phone goes off at that exact moment. “Oh.” She says. It’s been over an hour. “That’s Marie…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s already packing himself up. “Yeah, yeah, I didn’t mean to keep you.” He says. “Let’s get you back.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's a quiet ride back, Scott glancing over at Tessa every so often and Tessa purposefully <em>not</em> glancing at Scott. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So are we even now?” Scott asks, turning the radio dial to Tessa’s station. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks over at him. “Even.” She says softly and gives him a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s more silence, but eventually Scott says, “I’m still going to bring you coffee.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa can’t help her smile this time. Her cheeks grow hot and she stares out the window so he won’t see her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott drops Tessa off at the station and she rushes in to meet Marie to talk about her project. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry I’m late I -“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Marie’s sly smile cuts her off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tessa asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Marie laughs, “Don’t apologise.” She says simply. “I would’ve been late too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs nervously, not entirely sure what Marie is or isn’t implying. Clearly she knows she’s been out with Scott… probably thanks to Kaitlyn. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So your project.” Marie starts, and Tessa brightens up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She explains her idea and where she wants to take it, the research she’s done and the interview, and plans for further interviews. “I just think it could really help a lot of people.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Marie nods and folds her hand. “I love the story, I really do.” She says. “But I think it’s lacking a um… personal component.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s shoulders sag. She doesn’t think there’s a word she dreads more than <em>personal. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re young, you’re beautiful, the audience loves you, they want to see <em>you. </em>The story is lovely but if they don’t relate it’s your job to make it relatable.” Marie says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How do I…?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You danced, non?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Tessa says quietly. Marie already knows the story. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Marie holds her hands out as if that’s the answer, but Tessa shakes her head. “Marie, I can’t.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, ma chéri.” Marie sighs. “That’s <em>your</em> story. I won’t force you to tell it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a sigh of relief. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But you need something more. Try the sports out then, non? That will be entertainment enough, I think.” Marie continues.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Tessa trails off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, you know, skate! Play volleyball, do as they do, have them teach you!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Marie, I think that might take the focus off of their stories.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Non, non. It will expand everyone’s story.” She draws her hands apart to emphasise <em>expand</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chews her lip nervously. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good?” Marie asks, seemingly satisfied. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a sigh. “Good.” She says. Though, she’s not quite sure. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. None of Your Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I promise more on Tessa's backstory next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That weekend, Tessa interviews the other athlete she’s been in touch with, and it’s just as hard as hearing Meryl’s story. </span>
  <span class="s1">But she gets what she needs from the recording and goes straight home to listen to it and write out certain parts she’d like to focus on so she doesn’t have to listen later and put herself through the emotional wringer twice in one day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her phone rings just as she’s finished and she seriously considers ignoring the call but when she looks at the caller I.d. she sees it’s Meryl calling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Meryl.” She says, smiling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa, hi.” She hears on the other line. “I wanted to give you a call back about scheduling a visit to the rink.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They work out that Tessa will come that Friday to the rink Meryl practices at and Meryl will run through some drills with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing crazy, I promise.” Meryl says, and Tessa can tell she’s smiling when she says it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sounds good, Meryl.” Tessa say, but she hangs up and lets out a deep sigh. “Shit.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hasn’t skated in many, many years and she figures it might be helpful to have a refresher before she has to skate in front of all of Canada. The story won’t be live, thank God, but she’d rather not make a total fool of herself so they have something salvageable to put on air. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On Sunday she goes to one of the local rinks. It’s the oldest and the most beaten up - it looks like it’s straight out of the 70’s and Tessa loves that about it. She also figures that less people probably use it. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s five minutes to open skate and there’s currently a hockey league out there. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s busying herself with tying her skates when the buzzer goes off. </span>
  <span class="s1">She grumbles to herself as she tries to remember how to tie them tightly enough when she hears someone beside her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kiddo! What brings you here, research?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whips her head up to see Scott, clad in his hockey pads, holding his stick and cradling his helmet against his hip. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’s all sweaty in a way that Tessa tries not to appreciate too much.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” She says, blinking up at him. It’s strange to see him out of context. “Uh, yeah.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “Sorry to sneak up on you I just thought… you look like you could use some help with those laces.” He says, pointing at her skates with his stick. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says. “No, I can do it.” She’s about to leave it at that because she’s nothing if not stubborn, but she adds in a “Thank you.” At the end because her mother taught her manners. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, sure.” Scott says, running a hockey-gloved hand through his sweaty hair. Tessa can’t help the way it makes her stomach flip slightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I was going to stick around to skate for a bit so I guess I’ll see you out there.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Great.” She mumbles. More people to see her make a fool of herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She considers leaving for a moment but changes her mind. She’s got this. </span>
  <span class="s1">She gets out on the ice and immediately slips, but she catches herself on the boards. Scott’s not out there yet so she strokes around a bit and realises that this isn’t quite as easy as she remembered. And now that she’s taller the fall to the ice seems far longer… </span>
  <span class="s1">Someone whizzes past her and she realises it’s Scott. She grumbles to herself and tries to catch up but nearly falls over again, her back skate catching on the toe pick. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott skates over. “You good?” He asks. He’s changed out of his hockey pads and is in a pair of black sweats and a gray t-shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tessa says, annoyed at herself for not having better muscle memory. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She kicks off again and her ankle comes a bit loose and she falls forward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah.” Scott lunges forward and catches her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine.” She says, pushing him back. “I’m fine. I just haven’t skated in a really long time.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can tell you used to skate.” He says. “Your form is really good.” Scott tells her, “Your skates aren’t tight enough, that’s all.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looks up at him. “Oh.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t help a small smile. She’s so pretty with her cheeks flushed and her nose rosy red from the cold. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” He says, and without a thought, he lifts her by the waist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey!” She lets out a yelp and flails a bit - He’s lucky she doesn’t kick him. He sets her down on the boards. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry.” He says, his eyes wide. He hadn’t meant to do that. “It’s such a habit. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets her eyes scan over him for a moment. His hands are still on her hips as he apologises and she supposes she doesn’t totally <em>hate </em>it, nor does she <em>hate</em> knowing how easily he could lift her, but she pouts all the same. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It’s a habit?” She asks, crossing her arms and wondering how many girls he lifts in his free time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. “I mean…” He realises what she’s thinking and likes that it seems to bother her. “I coach a kids league - I have to tie their skates all the time and it’s just easier on my back when I don’t have to get down that low.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, sorry. I should have asked. Um… I can show you how to tie them though, if you’d like.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Tessa says, giving in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Scott says back, a smile on his face again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” He unties them and Tessa’s slightly impressed at how deft his fingers are with the intricate knot she’s managed to tie. </span>
  <span class="s1">She watches him untie the right laces and pull them out of the hooks and the first couple of eyelets. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They never lace the rentals right.” He says, and he pulls on each lace, coming closer so her leg is between his. She braces herself by holding the edge of the board and watches him, his brow knitted together in focus as he pulls on the laces once more, his whole body seeming to ripple with force. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry.” He apologises again. “Sometimes you gotta be a little rough with them.” Tessa swallows hard and nods. “Ok.” She says breathily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laces up the hooks, pulling hard on each as he moves upward. Tessa can’t help but watch the way his chest tightens under the thin fabric of his t-shirt each time he pulls the laces taught. </span>
  <span class="s1">He ties a knot just as intricate as she had in the laces and moves on to the next one. This one she’s tied in several knots in an effort to get them to feel tighter, and it gives Scott a bit more trouble. He kneels down on the ice and looks up at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re giving me a run for my money on this one.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s distracted by the way he looks down there gazing up at her the way he is, but she snaps herself out of it. </span>
  <span class="s1">“If that hurts your back-“ She begins, but he shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“All good.” He tells her. “A small sacrifice to help Canada’s sweetheart.” He grins at her and she shakes her head, laughing nervously. “I wouldn’t say that.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott gets the laces undone and stands back up, her leg between his again. He pulls really tight this time, his whole body coming forward for leverage so that his face is inches from hers. “I would say it.” He says, and Tessa’s tongue darts across her lip. She tries to shake the feeling that she wants him closer, but it’s overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get you laced up nice and <em>tight</em>.” He says, giving the laces a good pull and drawing the air from her lungs. “But the trick is at the hooks, you don’t want to go as hard.” He draws his fingers gently around each hook. “Feel that?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, still watching him intently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And then I like to make the last one tighter than the rest, just one last pull.” He gives her another tug and Tessa feels something inside of her melt as he leans closer again for leverage and wraps her lace around her skate. She feels his breath on her neck and goosebumps break out all across her body. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How’s that?” Scott asks, patting her foot. His voice is just a little too low and a little too satisfied when he says it, and his fingers press into her calf and make her shudder and she’s just so distracted that she doesn’t realise for a moment that he’s said something. When she sees he’s waiting for a response she hums, “hm?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leans a little closer, “Does that feel good, Tessa?” He says lowly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It leaves Tessa a little breathless so she just nods, her eyes wide and fixed on him because she can’t look anywhere else just now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott swallows hard, not wanting to move from where he is, her leg between his and his body so close to hers that he can smell her shampoo. She smells like flowers and the scent is as pretty as she is, but her eyes are dark and Scott finds himself focusing a bit too long on her lips that she’s bitten red again. </span>
  <span class="s1">Eventually he’s the one to take a step back because if he doesn’t he thinks he might take a step <em>forward</em> and he doesn’t want to make a mistake. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Try ‘em on the ice.” Scott says hoarsely. “Can I…” He hold his hands out and Tessa nods, so he puts his hands back on her waist. He likes holding her there, thinks he might like to get used to it, and Tessa can’t say she minds it much right now either. He smells slightly musty from hockey and it’s actually making her feel a bit swimmy in the head. He lifts her so easily and she grips his arms to stabilize herself, which she can’t say she dislikes either. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sets her on the ice so gently she doesn’t even realise her feet are on the ground for a good five seconds. She’s still holding his arms and he’s still got his hands on her hips, and they’re back in a game of chicken, but as someone skates by, Tessa becomes more self aware and lets go of him. “Thank you.” She says softly, turning her face away from his. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Scott says. “Here, um… can I?” He offers her his hand and she takes it to his surprise. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wordlessly, she begins to stroke across the ice and Scott glides along with her, smiling widely, proud of his work. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They slow to a stop and Tessa smiles up at him. He feels like a million bucks when she looks at him like that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See? Just gotta tie ‘em tighter next time.” He says. “You’re a natural.” He actually is impressed at the ease with which she strokes across the ice, and her posture is perfect. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s quite proud of herself. </span>
  <span class="s1">“So you coach?” Tessa asks as they pick their pace back up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, yeah. Just twice a week for a kids league. It’s a lot of fun.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “And you still play on the weekends… you’re a big hockey fan.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “You could say that, yeah. Sounds like you have some <em>opinions</em> on hockey.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “No.” She says, and Scott waits a moment because he can tell she has more to say. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I do have an opinion on grown men electing not to wear face protection because it makes them appear weak.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “Toxic masculinity.” He says. “It’s an epidemic.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is!” Tessa says to him, and he likes her enthusiasm.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me a guy with a mouth full of missing teeth looks tougher than a guy with a cage over his face.” Tessa says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks at her fondly. “Missing teeth make you look pretty badass.” He says, shrugging. “My top teeth are actually dentures.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him feeling awkward and hoping she hasn’t offended him but Scott can’t help breaking out into a laugh at how horrified she looks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m joking.” He says, “But now I know for the future that dentures are not the way to capture your attention.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head, chuckling slightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what is?” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is what?” She asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is the way to capture your attention?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says, flushing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Asking for a friend.” Scott says quietly. Tessa finds it endearing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Flowers.” She says. “chocolate.” She pauses and can’t help smiling at how enthralled he looks. “And I like men with longer hair.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods, looks down at his feet. “Long like…?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip before looking back up at him. “Yours is nice.” She says, her cheeks colouring, and Scott has to look away because he can feel himself grinning ridiculously widely. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They skate another lap around before either of them realises they’re still holding hands. </span>
  <span class="s1">When Tessa becomes aware of it she lets go and Scott’s slightly disappointed, but the fact that she likes his hair is still ringing in his ears. </span>
  <span class="s1">She kicks off and starts picking up speed and Scott watches her for a moment in awe before starting off after her, chasing her down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he finally catches her, he’s out of breath and stops himself on the boards. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Woo.” He says. “You’re fast.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. “I contain multitudes.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. “You do.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re both leaning against the boards now, standing too close to each other to look friendly, but neither of them are paying much attention to that now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott reaches out and pulls on the corner of Tessa’s pullover. It’s black and skin-tight and she’s wearing it with leggings Scott would describe the same way. “I like this.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “Back off, Moir.” She says, and pushes his hand away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Scott asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know what you’re doing.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” He laughs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re trying to flatter me. I don’t know why, but you are.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not trying to flatter you.” He says gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are, I can tell.” She says. “I don’t want you to do that to me. I don’t want to play games.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He glides a bit closer to her and holds her at her arm, bowing his head to look down at her. “I’m trying to do a lot of things with you but I promise you that isn’t one of them.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares up at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott waits for her to say something back, but she just turns and skates off - not playfully, not the way she’s just done, but Scott skates after her all the same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess!” He calls after her. She skates faster. It takes him a little while to catch her but he does as she’s getting off the ice, climbing up into the player’s box. He follows after her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sits down on the bench, bending over to furiously work at the ties on her skates. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He says, setting a hand on her back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She flinches away from him. “Please don’t.” She says. She doesn’t sound angry, just annoyed or hurt, maybe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He says. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but hey, what did I say? What’s wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head, bending back over and working the laces again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” Scott says. He kneels before her and works on one skate while she does the other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Together, they get her out of her skates and she quickly pushes her shoes on. “I’m sorry.” She says quickly, and picks up her coat to rush out of the rink. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott stands there and watches her feeling very confused. He works at his skates, slings them over his shoulders and slips his shoes on before heading out. He figures Tessa’s long gone by now, but as he walks out of the rink she’s there, leaning against the concrete wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” She says. “I’m sorry I just needed some air.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right.” He says, nodding. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighs. “I want us to be friends.” She says. “But I don’t think I’m the kind of person you think I am.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what kind of person is that?” Scott asks inquisitively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shifts uncomfortably. “Fun.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t help but laugh at that ridiculous statement. “Tessa, I haven’t known you very long, and trust me, I’ve been trying to pin down what type of person you are, but I just can’t seem to get it. Every time I think I know something about you, you come and surprise me. But one thing I will say is that I’ve had a <em>lot </em>of fun with you, kiddo. So I hate to break it to you, but I actually do know you’re fun.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa crosses her arms. She feels like arguing that she is <em>not</em> fun, but she figures it’ll be futile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I’ll tell you what else I think.” Scott says. “I think you’re afraid of having fun.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am not!” Tessa says, flaring up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott crosses his arms to mirror him. “Alright, come out with me this Friday then and prove it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See? You’re afraid.” Scott says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grumbles. “Fine.” She says. “Fine. Friday.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” Scott says, grinning. “I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa just gives him a curt nod. God, he frustrates her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They part ways to walk to their respective cars.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Tess?” Scott shouts across the parking lot. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She turns to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s your favourite flower?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head. “None of your business, Moir.” She says. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Maybe Kind Of</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you so smiley about?” Kaitlyn asks Scott. She’s come into hair and makeup to drop of a new order of hair product. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott’s leaning over the counter. He’s here every morning to leave Tessa’s coffee out for her but today there’s a sticky note on the counter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>No dancing. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Not a date.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is all it says, but it’s made Scott beam for some reason. He’s still slightly surprised that Tessa’s agreed to hang out tonight, and this just solidifies that she still intends to, even if she felt it necessary to clarify that it isn’t a date. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott turns to Kaitlyn and shrugs. “Just having a good morning.” He says, and he turns back and scribbles at the bottom of the sticky note, </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>noted. (get it?)</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He comes back a bit later to get his own hair done, and Tessa’s there. She’s holding her coffee and smiling down at his note. She must’ve just gotten in from wardrobe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still scared I’ll out dance you, eh?” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s been so caught up in her thoughts and his scribbles and the coffee he’s brought her that she jumps about a foot in the air and spills her coffee all over her blouse. And this time it’s <em>hot</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ouch, ouch, fuck!” She hisses. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” Scott says, taking a step toward her. She’s trying to undo the buttons so she can at least get the hot fabric off herself and assess the state of her chest, but her hands are shaking, so Scott helps her, his hands working as deftly at the buttons as they had on her skates. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here. Here.” He says, undoing them as quickly as he can until he can open her shirt. Under different circumstances he’d love to take his time in doing this, but he’s rushing around, quickly turning and heading to the sink, soaking wet paper towels with cold water and bringing them back to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shuts her eyes and lets out a small whimper when he lays them on her chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asks. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t think he’s ever messed up this much with one person. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s fine.” She says, and lets out a deep sigh. She takes the paper towels off herself and looks down at her chest. It’s just a little red. The fabric of her blouse took most of the damage. Wardrobe was not going to be happy with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She seems calmer now, which in turn makes Scott slightly calmer. It’s the first time he allows himself to really look at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s pretty perfect. She has on a black lace bra and her chest is littered with freckles. He finds it adorable. And then his eyes catch on something lower - a tiny silver navel ring. His eyebrows shoot up and he admits that’s probably the last thing he’s expected from her. She certainly is a mystery. And he feels a very satisfied feeling now knowing she has that there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eyes up here, Moir.” She says to him, and Scott stiffens and jerks his head up to meet her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, I-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s horrified at himself, but it had just caught his attention. He expects her to be livid, but instead she’s smiling. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. <em>Who the hell are you? </em>He thinks to himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa gives him a little shove. “That one was definitely your fault.” She says, her eyes gleaming. She likes that he was so distracted by her, but she quickly snaps herself out of that line of thinking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “I didn’t know you were so jumpy.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cocks her head, gives him a disbelieving look. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, yeah, I kind of did know.” He laughs. “Sorry I forgot.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wardrobe’s going to ban me from having coffee.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll just start bringing it in a sippy-cup.” He suggests. Tessa grins and Scott takes a step closer, his thumb gently pushing the collar of her blouse further over her shoulder so he can get a better look at the state of her skin. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “You’re buying drinks <em>tonight</em> too.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods as well. “Well, that was a given.” He lets his eyes wander back down over her lace bra and then her piercing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I should probably go get changed.” She says, watching him focus on anywhere but her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She bites her lip and shrugs her shirt completely off. Scott’s eyes are glued to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me.” She says quietly, tossing her damp shirt onto his shoulder and slipping past him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott clears his throat, blinking as he comes out of his daze and turns to watch her walk across the hall in her bra. </span>
  <span class="s1">He takes the shirt off his shoulder and sighs deeply. Sometimes he doesn’t believe she’s real. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Andrew.” Scott whispers across the table from his co-worker. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew looks up from his sandwich. “Dude, it’s just the two of us here, why are you whispering?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “What’s Tessa’s favourite flower?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew furrows his brow. “Favourite flower?” He asks, confused. “Hell if I know, why?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs again and a slow smile grows across Andrew’s face. “You’re buying her flowers?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs a third time. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m trying to.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew’s fully grinning now. “I mean… she likes pink I think? I mean…” He laughs. “I kind of sound like an asshole calling myself her friend when I hardly know anything about her personal life but…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “No I get it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a closed book.” Andrew says, biting his lip.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah well…” Scott says. “I’m trying to open her.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew shakes his head. “I wish you luck, my friend.” He claps Scott on the shoulder. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott arrives at Tessa’s apartment and rings her bell. He’s in a blue dress shirt and a pair of dark jeans. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches her come bounding down the stairs in a long beige skirt with a red tank and a black leather jacket. Her hair’s half down and wavy, falling gently over her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow.” Scott says out loud as she approaches him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles. “Surprised I own clothes that you haven't stained with coffee?” She asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. “No just admiring.” Scott says, and watches her blush. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well you didn’t tell me where we were going so I kind of had to just guess.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a good guesser.” Scott says opening the door for her. “And for the record, I did tell you where we’re going - to have fun. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She breezes past him and out to his car, muttering that fun isn’t a place, but he stops her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re not taking her tonight.” He says. Tessa turns around, confused. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just you and me.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You and <em>I</em>.” Tessa corrects him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You and I.” Scott repeats. “Come on, will ya?” He laughs, already starting to walk away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa follows after him. “Where are we going?” She asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“None of your business.” He tells her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Touché” She mumbles under her breath, and Scott smiles to himself.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walk a few blocks before coming to an old brick building with stairs leading to a basement door. </span>
 </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Inside the lighting is dim, but there are lights strung out across the ceiling. There’s a bar and several booths and Tessa’s surprised she’s never seen this place before but the building is so inconspicuous she probably would have just walked by it anyway. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s rather crowded and there’s loud music playing and it’s not exactly what Tessa had imagined for their evening but she thinks she can make this work. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott leads her through the room though, past some pool tables where there’s a few games going on, and straight out the back door. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says, confused, but as her eyes adjust to the light outside she smiles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott gives his name to the hostess and she leads them to a wrought iron table under a willow tree. It’s much quieter out here with several tables spaced far apart and a live band in the middle of the lot. There are flowers lining the fence and lights strung up in the tree. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean we can hang out inside if you want, I just figured this would be more your speed.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My speed?” Tessa asks, taking a seat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know…” Scott says, “sophisticated.” He grins. He tends to do that when he’s with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There you go with that flattery again.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “I told you that’s not it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then just say you think I’m not a party person.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not a party person?” He repeats. “I would never say that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa crosses her arms. “No?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” He says. “I think you’re a party all on your own.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa kicks him under the table. “Ow!” He says. “What? I was complimenting you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah well, get me some wine and I’ll show you what a party I am.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, ma’am.” He says, raising his hand to catch the attention of a waiter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They have dinner and chat about Tessa’s project and Scott’s coaching and they finish a bottle of wine together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they’re finished dining, Scott takes care of the bill, refuses to let her pay. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"It's not a date." She reminds him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I know." He says, “But remember the little show you gave me this morning?” He says, slightly inebriated. “I owe you one for that.” Tessa bats at his arm, tries to get the cheque out of his hand but eventually she gives in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, happy from the good food and wine, Tessa and Scott weave their way though the bar toward the door. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott catches Tessa staring at the people dancing on the floor. He rests a hand on her back. “You ok?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa snaps herself out of wherever she’s gone and nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re walking down the street now, Tessa following Scott’s lead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I ask you something?” Scott says, walking closer to her. They’ve both got their hands in their pockets. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Tessa sighs. She already knows what it is. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, it’s none of my business. You’re right about that, Tess. Your life is none of my business, but I want it to be. I mean, if you’re willing to share it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighs. “I used to dance.” She says. “And then I got hurt and it’s just been hard.” Her voice is shaking and Scott can tell how hard this is for her to talk about so he stops walking and puts a hand on her back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He says. “Come here, let’s sit for a while.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They sit on a stone stoop and Scott turns to her. “You don’t have to answer any of my questions.” He says. “But I’m going to ask some.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you get hurt?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was in the car accident.” She says. “I broke my leg and a few ribs.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott winces. He hates to think of her so hurt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I’m so sorry.” He says. “Was that before you were at Five?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you tried dancing since?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “I just don’t… um…” She’s shaking now and Scott feels his stomach drop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He says. “Hey, hey, look at me.” He moves closer to her and wraps an arm around her, rubbing her arm. “It’s alright. Thank you for telling me that.” He says. That’s enough for now. He’s grateful that she was willing to share what she did with him and he can see now exactly how hard it is for her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry.” Tessa whispers, her voice quivering. She honestly wishes she could tell him the rest but she knows she’s not ready to talk about it. Not yet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pulls her into his side. “Don't be." he says. "I'm sorry I brought up dancing. You’re ok.” He says. “It’s ok.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and tucks her hair behind her ears, letting out a deep breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That must have been so scary.” He says. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Tessa nods her thanks and takes comfort in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I have something that might help.” Scott says, and he stands and offers her his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes it without protest this time and he guides her just around the corner to a small shop that smells delicious. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My cousin showed me this place a while back.” Scott says. “You probably know it but-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know it.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they get inside everything smells like chocolate and Tessa feels herself relax just at the distraction. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chocolate makes everything better, eh?” Scott asks, and Tessa gives him the best smile she can manage right now. That’s always been her philosophy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It turns out to be a chocolate bar and they each have samples of whatever the day’s confections were. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets herself relax further as she tries each of her desserts and then samples Scott’s. “Hey.” He says as she reaches over and takes some of his chocolate without asking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You owe me.” She says. “For that little <em>show</em>, I believe you called it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t argue with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I’ll add a side of chocolate to your coffee every day if that becomes a regular thing.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa kicks him under the table again and this time Scott just nods. “I deserved that.” He says and makes her laugh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They finish with some chocolate fondue that’s set up buffet style at the back of the bar. </span>
  <span class="s1">As soon as Scott sees the flowing chocolate he can’t resist dipping a finger in and booping it straight to onto Tessa’s nose. </span>
  <span class="s1">She crosses her eyes trying to get a look at it and then tries to get her tongue to reach it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good try, kiddo.” He laughs. “I’d be pretty damn impressed if you could manage that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa reaches her finger into the flow of chocolate and, before he can dodge her, streaks a long line of it across Scott’s cheek.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you’re really asking for it now.” He says, and he grabs her and pretends to be trying to push her into the fountain. Of course he never would, but Tessa fights back like he will, pushing as hard as she can against him. The two of them struggle against one another, both of them fiercely competitive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but we can't have this going on here.” He says. "We're going to have to kindly ask you to leave. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Scott turn to one another. Tessa's face reddens, but Scott just shrugs and takes her hand, pulling her outside after paying. There's silence for a moment, and Scott's walking toward a streetlight to wipe the chocolate off her face when he hears her start to laugh. </span>
  <span class="s1">He turns to her and she makes him smile the way she just can't contain herself. She's on a sugar high and that was the silliest thing she's done in a long time and she just finds it hilarious. </span>
  <span class="s1">Under normal circumstances, she would be horrified at the immaturity of it all, but it had just been so much fun she’s not even thinking about all that just now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They pause for a moment under a streetlight and Scott holds her shoulder to still as he wipes the chocolate from her face with his thumb. Her laughter quiets as she watches him slip it past his lips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Delicious.” He says softly and she smiles and does the same to him. There’s something strangely intimate about the moment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s just watching her intently, his eyes fixed on her lips as she sucks the chocolate from her finger. And then he lets his eyes wander for a moment before looking back up at her. “I told you you’re fun.” He says. “Only fun people get kicked out of chocolate bars. I think that's pretty common knowledge.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
<span class="">Tessa smiles. That’s probably true, she thinks.
</span></p>
<p class="p1">
<span class="">Tessa bites her lip and looks away as she says, "I think maybe I am afraid to have fun most of the time." 
</span></p>
<p class="p1">
<span class="">"That's ok." Scott says, brushing a lock of hair back off her shoulder. "I can help with that. That'll be <em>my</em> project." Then he looks at her shirt where he's just brushed her hair away and says, "Uh, Tess? Don’t kill me please, but...” He points to a chocolate stain on her shirt. He must have dripped some on her while he was going for her nose. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa throws her head back and laughs that beautiful laugh that makes Scott feel all mushy inside. "I think ruining all my clothes is <em>your</em> project." She says. "Or maybe you just want me to see me take my shirt off again."</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
<span class="">Scott shakes his head. "No - I mean - I would but - I uh... that was not my intention, I'm sorry." He sputters, nervously. 

</span></p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs at how dismayed he seems at the thought that he'd do something like that on purpose. She pats his shoulder. "It's a joke, Moir, don't be so afraid of a little fun." Scott smiles a relieved smile and just shakes his head as she laughs at him and they walk back toward Tessa's apartment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you have the filming tomorrow?” Scott asks as they're walking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s pretty awesome.” Scott says. “I really like how you’re framing everything.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles up at him. “Really or is that more flattery?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “I told you no flattery.” He says. “No, I just… I was injured pretty badly too and couldn’t play hockey for a while. I think the story would have helped me had I heard it back then.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses. “What happened?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just rammed up against the boards at the right angle… or the wrong angle, I guess.” Scott says. “I was being recruited for the NHL actually and well… after that it was kind of over for me and I had a really hard time coming to terms with that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s heart seizes up. “Scott, I had no idea.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah.” He waves her off. “It’s alright. I feel lucky to play again in any capacity. But I was pretty mad about it back then. I think hearing Meryl’s story would have helped me a lot.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “That’s my goal.” She says and then takes a breath before asking, “How did you get back out there again? I mean - didn’t it bother you that you couldn’t play like you used to?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott admits. “It really did. To be honest, I didn’t step foot into a rink for the rest of university. I got pretty obsessed with being able to predict things after that, since I just never figured something like that happening to me. I know it’s kind of crazy and you can never predict injuries but I just needed to be able to look at something in the world and say, ‘Ok, I understand why this is happening and I can trace the patterns.’ Just something to help me feel less out of control, you know? So that’s the full reason I got into meteorology. I wanted to help predict the bad things, to warn people about them. And that was really therapeutic for me. It still is. I think that’s what gave me the courage to get back out there - knowing that there are at least reasons for certain things and things that can be predicted.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s stunned. “Wow.” Is all she can say. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “I think your story is really great. That’s the main point I’m trying to make.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns to him. “Scott?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waits. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think I could use a bodyguard slash audio engineer tomorrow. If you know anyone who’s available.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott beams. “You know what? I actually do know a guy.” He says, and Tessa smiles back. The very least she can do in return for him sharing all that with her is let him see the story in the making. Plus, she’s started to feel a bit comforted by his presence and maybe selfishly wants a friend there with her tomorrow when she’ll have to face her demons all over again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walk one more block in contented silence and end up on Tessa’s stairwell just outside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for sharing that with me.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Yeah. Thank you too, I mean, I feel like I’m one step closer to knowing the famous Tessa Virtue.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa waves him off. “Not sure that’s a good thing.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “It’s a very good thing.” And then he pauses. “Hey, wait um, hold on just one second.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He runs down the stairs to his car and opens the passenger door. When he emerges it’s with a bouquet of flowers like Tessa’s never seen before. Not a single flower is the same, they’re all different types and colours and Tessa’s eyes grow wide when she sees it. Scott hands her the bouquet and she cradles it lovingly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiles at how gentle she is with it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We did the chocolate and the hair’s a given.” He says, pointing up at his head. “So I had to go for the hat-trick.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa honestly doesn’t know what to say. “They’re beautiful.” She manages.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles proudly. “Which one’s your favourite?” He asks. There must be twenty different types of flowers there and he’ll be pretty disappointed if her favourite isn’t one of them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa examines the flowers and it only takes her a second to spot her favourite. "</span>
  <span class="s1">Right here.” She says, her finger brushing the pretty pink petals. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh.” Scott commits it to memory. “What’s it called?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles up at him. “Peony.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Peony.” He repeats, his eyes locked on hers. “Beautiful.” He says softly, but he’s still looking at her and he moves his hand to her jaw and lets his thumb brush her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa closes her eyes and leans into his touch for just a moment before pulling away. “Scott.” She says in a warning tone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” He says, he already knows. “It’s not a date.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “Not a date.” It had been hard to remember that over the course of the evening. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know.” He says. “Because if it were, I’d kiss you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa swallows hard and lets out a little huff of breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So." He says, "Can I give you a ride to the rink tomorrow?" Tessa nods and Scott seems satisfied enough with that. "Goodnight, Tess.” He says softly before turning and walking down her front stairs. He’s just made it to the sidewalk below when she calls to him,</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turns back to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe it <em>was</em> kind of like date.” She says. “<em>Maybe</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles to himself and jogs his way back up the stairs. “Yeah?” He asks. “Maybe's good. I can work with maybe.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Maybe kind of.” She clarifies and steps closer to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He cups her cheek again. “Let’s do this then.” He whispers and bows his head until she feels his breath on her ear. She shudders. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you’re ok with it.” he says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and then his lips are on her cheek and he kisses her there so gently she could cry. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Scott pulls back he’s wearing a huge smile. “<em>Maybe‘s </em>pretty good, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles and nods her head. “Kind of.” She says in a whisper. Scott nods, "Kind of." He repeats, still beaming.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Scott part ways and Tessa lets herself inside and puts her flowers in a vase before sinking down into her sofa and burying her face in her hands. "Oh." She sighs, talking to herself. "What are you <em>doing</em>?"</span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Not Dancing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tosses and turns the whole night thinking about Scott and his story. It’s not all that different from Meryl’s she supposes, or Mari’s… or her own, but she doesn’t much think about that part. Tessa’s always been pretty good at dissociating from her own problems, especially since she was injured.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She wonders briefly if Scott might like to share his story. She thinks it would be nice to have a male voice in the mix as well and Scott’s so candid she knows it would go over well. Maybe she’ll ask him after they record Meryl’s part.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She spends the rest of the night feeling angry at herself for - well, <em>feeling</em> things about him. She doesn’t like that she’s so taken by him, it makes her uncomfortable. She’s terrified of being hurt again the way she was last time and if she’s come to know anything about the world it’s that there <em>are </em>unpredictable things that you just can’t prepare for and sometimes people are just <em>taken</em> from you.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She rolls over in bed and tries to think of happier things but finds her mind drifting to the fun she and Scott had instead, and then she just gets frustrated and gives up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t sleep much that night to say the least, and when Scott picks her up in the morning she feels like a zombie who certainly isn’t ready to skate on camera. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Order up.” Scott says. “Double shot, figured you could use it after the wine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Tessa mumbles, taking it from him and sipping it immediately. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You good?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Yeah just tired and… maybe a little nervous.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s surprised she’s admitted to being nervous and feels proud that he’s earned the privilege of knowing her true feelings - or at least to whatever extent she’ll allow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll be fantastic.” He says. “You were skating circles around everyone the other day.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs and looks out the window. She’s glad he’s here but she doesn’t quite want to show it. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They get to the rink and Tessa gets mic’d along with Meryl and Charlie. Scott’s just standing by watching everything. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He loves the way she smiles when she talks to them. She’s such a genuinely sweet person. Despite how much of herself Tessa hides, Scott can always see that part of her shine through and he loves it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I was talking to my friend who happens to work for the national ballet.” Meryl says. “And I told her about doing this story with you and she mentioned that you used to be <em>in </em>the ballet.” Meryl says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s straining to hear from where he’s standing. Did Meryl say Tessa was in the national ballet?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s whole body becomes rigid and she tries to glance back at Scott out of the corner of her eye. She hopes he hasn’t heard that. She doesn’t really want to get in to that. She’s not ready, but Scott’s looking away, his hands in his pockets and Tessa figures it’s alright. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says quietly. “At one point a long time ago. It’s not really important now.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Of course it’s important!” Meryl says. “That’s an amazing accomplishment to even be accepted. Was there a reason you left?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. She can’t do this. “Just… it was just time for something different.” She says. She doesn’t want Meryl to relate their stories. Tessa’s ashamed that she’s not been as productive in dealing with her demons as Meryl has been. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Meryl says, getting the idea that Tessa’s uncomfortable. “Well you’re probably familiar with a lot of the music we use for our programs then! There’s a lot of overlap according to my friend.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Today the class is skating to Faulkner’s New Beginning. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pauses a moment, thinks of how perfect that is and smiles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Meryl smiles back. “It’s one of my favourites. I thought you might like it too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The camera man gives them a thumbs up from the ice to signal he’s ready and Meryl looks back at Scott. “Is the audio set?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He asks. “Oh, yeah. All set.” He gives a thumbs up and Tessa smirks. She’s set it up herself with some help from the cameraman. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Meryl starts making her way onto the ice but Tessa’s still looking back at Scott. He’s made no signs that he’s learned something new about her and she’s relieved. She’s also so glad to have him there, just a friendly face to help put her at ease. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott winks at her and she blushes and turns around to follow Meryl.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Out on the ice, it takes Tessa a moment to get used to the movements of skating again, but she quickly finds her legs and she and Meryl skate a few gentle laps before shooting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches Tessa flit about on the ice and is taken with how graceful she is. And then he has another realisation… that little girl who’d come up to her asking for her autograph was in a ballet tutu… It would certainly make more sense that she’d know Tessa from the ballet rather than the news… So she’d been in the national ballet. Wow. He was officially impressed. He decides right then and there not to say anything. It’s obviously not something she wants to talk about and far be it from Scott to force something like that on her. He feels like she’s just started to trust him a bit. She’d invited him here, let him in just a little bit more. He wants her to tell him things on his own time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">But he files the information away in his head because he might like to see what a quick google search comes up with later. If that little girl had wanted her autograph she must have been good. And then he chuckles to himself. It’s Tessa. Of course she was good. He was sure she was fantastic. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t hear the women from where he is in the stands, but Tessa’s started the interview portion of the filming and he thinks he could just stand there forever watching her. Just the way her eyes glow when she’s so caught up in something she cares about is so enthralling to him. And he likes to watch the movements of her pretty lips, painted red for the camera and the way she brushes her hair back over her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They call Charlie out on the ice and he shares his part of the story before Meryl’s class arrives. They cut filming while the class files out onto the ice to warm up before going through the choreography. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa skates over to the boards and Scott descends a bit so he can join her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.” She smiles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How’s it going?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s good.” She says. And she means it. It’s always hard to listen to stories that remind her of her own trauma, but she’s so happy to be able to share other’s stories and she really does feel more at ease knowing that she’s not alone here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m excited to see you dance.” Scott says, and Tessa tenses up. “It’s not dancing.” She says. “This isn’t dancing. This is skating.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott realises his mistake and immediately wants to kick himself. “No, yeah. Just skating. That’s what I meant.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares at him and swallows hard. Suddenly everything hits her and she feels like she’s in a free fall. “Scott.” She says hoarsely. Her hands are gripping the boards so tightly that her knuckles have gone white. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He says. He covers her hands with his and gives her a squeeze. “It’s alright. You’re skating. Just skating.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods vehemently but she’s breathing quick and uneven breaths. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” Scott says. “Tessa. Look at me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She looks up and meets his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m right here. You’re safe. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “You can’t know that. It’s not the weather, Scott.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott bites his lip. “If anything happens, Tess, I’m right here, ok? I care about you. You’re not alone here, ok? I know it’s hard and it’s scary but you’re just skating, remember? You’re telling a story.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I’m telling a story.” She repeats. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re telling a story.” He says it again for good measure and feel her grip loosen on the boards under his hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m right here.” He tells her again. “Bodyguard duties, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and lets out a deep breath, pushing off the boards and skating over to Meryl who’s ready to start class. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The music plays and Meryl models the first couple of steps while everyone watches and then tries to replicate. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s not an advanced class - some of the students fall, but all of them are so happy to be there doing something they love that it doesn’t matter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles as he watches Tessa easily pick up the choreography. He smiles as he imagines her at the ballet in her tutu and pointe shoes prancing about. He can almost picture it in his head. He wishes he could see her like that and wonders why she’s so afraid to go back to it. She clearly enjoys moving her body. Scott can see how naturally it comes to her as she follows along with Meryl. Soon, she’s helping Meryl show the class the correct moves. Scott can tell that even Meryl is impressed and he smiles proudly. When she glances up at him he gives her a thumbs up and she smiles. She looks ok. Scott relaxes a bit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When they’ve got the whole number down - not perfectly, mind you, it’s only a hour-long class - they run though the whole thing with the music. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott sits down and watches. He tries to take in the whole picture, all the class moving together. He thinks it’s a beautiful thing, but he keeps focusing on Tessa. He thinks she could be an ice dancer in another life, perhaps. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She moves so fluidly and so beautifully to the music that Scott’s sure he could watch her all day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The music Meryl’s picked seems to be perfect. <em>New Beginning </em>he thinks to himself, and he smiles. It’s a new beginning for him at NewsCenter Five, and a new beginning for Meryl at the rink and for Tessa with this project and he thinks thinks maybe Tessa could be a new beginning for him as well. Maybe they could be a new beginning for each other. He feels himself getting excited about that thought as he watches Tessa spinning on the ice. She catches Meryl’s hands and they laugh as the music comes to an end and Scott stands up and applauds them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When they wrap filming and Tessa steps off the ice, Scott’s right there smiling as big as he ever has. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That was amazing.” He tells her. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blushes. “It wasn’t anything.” She says. “But thank you. And thank you for coming.” Scott smiles. “Thank you for inviting me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa thanks Meryl and Charlie then too and tells them she’ll be in touch and she and Scott head back out to his truck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott gives Tessa some time. She’s a bit overwhelmed, so they drive in silence and when he looks over at her finally, he realises she’s fallen asleep, her head leaning up against the car window. He smiles at the sight and at the feeling of intimacy he gets from seeing her vulnerable like that. </span>
  <span class="s1">He turns the music down, lets her rest until they’re back at her apartment. He’s sure all the stress of the day has caught up with her and she must be exhausted. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He says gently after he parks the car. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He reaches over and touches her arm. “Tessa. Hey.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wakes slowly, her pretty green eyes fluttering open and focusing on him as best she can. “Oh.” She says, realising she’s been asleep. “I’m sorry.” She blushes and Scott can’t help but smile. “That’s ok.” He says. “I’ll take that as a compliment to my driving skills. Think I’ve made up for that first time, eh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I think so.” She says hoarsely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott strokes her arm. “Are you alright?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I think maybe I need a nap.” She laughs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fair enough.” Scott says. “Well, let me help you carry your stuff up.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh no, Scott you don’t need to…” She’s begun to say but he’s already taking her bags from the back and slinging them over his shoulder. He opens the door for her and helps her out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Such a gentleman.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not bad for the guy who spills coffee all over you, eh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not <em>all</em> over me.” She says, cutting him some slack. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah well, there’s still time.” Scott says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chuckles as she unlocks the door and they head up a flight of stairs to another door. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Apartment number 7. Lucky number.” Scott observes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mhm.” Tessa mutters. She wants to say <em>It hasn’t been so lucky for me. </em>But she doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott pick up on something though, and asks her, “What?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. “I think I’m just not a lucky person.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” He asks. “You met me.” He winks at her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes and pushes past him into the apartment, but she can’t help the flicker of a smile and Scott sees it too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just set these here?” Scott asks, standing at the threshold. He doesn’t want to encroach in her private life if she’s not ready for it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “That’s fine, thank you.” She says and Scott sets them down gently. He does a quick scan of her apartment and finds it’s mostly how he’s expected it - pristine, full of white furniture that he’s sure he’d ruin with coffee or salsa or something in the first week he owned it. Her floors are spotless, hardwood painted black and her kitchen looks untouched, the countertops white marble and the appliances stainless steel. There are large windows which let enough light in where she doesn’t even need the lights on during the day and there’s a small bookshelf built into the wall in her living room filled with books and a little wooden box. There’s spaces on the wall that are bare where it looks like she used to have things hung up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He smiles when he sees the flowers he’s given her in a vase on the breakfast bar. He likes to think that she’ll think of him when she sees them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Casing the place?” Tessa asks, snapping Scott out of his daze. She’s in the kitchen where she’s pouring herself a glass of water. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Just curious to see how Canada’s sweetheart lives when she’s out of the limelight.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa crosses her arms. “And?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“And it’s pretty much what I expected.” He says. “They say people often mirror the state of their homes.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So what did you expect from me?” She asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “That your home would be pretty.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles. She’s expected a snarky comment. “Oh.” She says. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott scratches the back of his neck. “I should probably get going.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you sure I can’t offer you a glass of wine? Or something to eat at least?” She wants to thank him for everything today. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I thought you needed a nap.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. “I probably shouldn’t nap this late.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Scott says, surprised she’s inviting him. “Sure, yeah that would be great if you’re alright with it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles over at him and pours him a glass of wine, holding it out. “I guess seven is <em>your </em>lucky number.” She says, and Scott nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Seems like it.” He says. He kicks his shoes off and makes his way over to the kitchen to join her, taking the wine from her outstretched hand. “Thank you.” He says, his hand brushing hers as he takes the glass. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They’re quiet for a moment, Tessa taking stock of the fact that Scott’s in her apartment and she doesn’t feel <em>that</em> weird about letting him in. Then she starts to feel guilty that it feels easy and she clears her throat. “We should probably order food.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.” Scott says, pulling his phone out. “Unless you’d rather just cook here.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “I have nothing in the fridge.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on, there’s always <em>something </em>you can make out of what’s in the fridge, even if it seems random. He opens the door to her refrigerator and finds it completely empty save for a carton of almond milk and a lemon. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, what do you eat?” He asks slightly amused, but when he turn back around she’s blushing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just not the best cook.” She says, “so I order out a lot.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “Alright well, how does sushi sound then?” He decides not to comment further on the state of her refrigerator. He doesn’t want her to feel self-conscious. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, and Scott can tell she’s feeling that way anyway. “If I were Canadian royalty I wouldn’t cook either.” He says, and Tessa shakes her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Stop calling me stuff like that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, your majesty.” He says, and Tessa pushes Scott. It takes him by surprise and he loses his balance, his wine sloshing over the edge of the glass and spilling onto Tessa’s pants.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Tessa starts laughing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, that one was your fault!” Scott says, laughing now as well. “Fuck.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head, glad her pants are black and Scott pulls a paper towel from the stainless steel holder and hands it to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She wipes the wine off as best she can. “You’re lucky I like you, Moir.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. “You like me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs.”You’re alright.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott beams. “I guess seven is my lucky number.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They order sushi for dinner and sit on Tessa’s sofa. Scott’s intensely careful with his every movement, terrified he’ll spill something on her white furniture. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So when are you filming the volleyball segment?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Next weekend.” Tessa says, popping a tuna roll into her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “They going to make you play volleyball?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles and laughs. “Yeah, it should be pretty interesting.” She says. “It’s beach volleyball too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s eyebrows shoot up. “So like… you’ll have to wear a bikini?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, picking up another roll with her chopsticks. It’s not until she looks back up that she sees the way Scott’s looking at her and she laughs. “What?” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “Nothing I just… that’s nice. That’s all. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh that’s nice?” She asks, teasing him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah uh… I mean you look nice in everything you wear…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Yeah ok.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I think you might need a bodyguard there, especially since you’ll be in a swimsuit.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?” Tessa asks, feigning innocence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Who knows what kind of strange guys are going to be there.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I have an idea.” Tessa says, smirking at him. “Probably the kind that spill coffee all over me to get me to take my top off.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “That was not on purpose, but yeah. If anyone spills coffee on you I’ll beat them up.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I have a feeling you might regret saying that later, but sure, I suppose I could use a bodyguard again.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They talk for another little while about the day before Scott spots a record player by her bookshelf. “Hey is that -?” He points to it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says. “Yeah, do you want some music?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mostly just want to see what kind of music you listen to.” He says, getting up to leaf through the records Tessa keeps neatly stacked by the player. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She comes over and joins him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s Pink Flyod, Fleetwood Mac, Mozart and Bach, The Rolling Stones, The Weekend, even Taylor Swift - it’s a complete mixed bag and Scott just laughs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tessa asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head and sets The Stones on. “I just can’t pin you down.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean… You’re like you have this innocent good girl image and you danced ballet and your house is all neat and you look like a princess but you could run a lot of hockey players into the ground on the ice and you’ve got that little bellybutton ring and you’re not really as innocent as you seem and your music is just… I mean it’s kind of everything. You’re kind of… <em>everything</em>. He says. “You’re everything.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs. She’s actually quite flattered. She takes pride in being multi-fasciated. “I like to keep people guessing.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You certainly do that.” Scott says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I thought I should maybe take the piercing out for the volleyball filming though.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott bites his lip. “You could do that.” He says lowly. “It might make my bodyguarding duties easier.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” Tessa asks, smiling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “That weirdo that spilled coffee all over you really likes that piercing.” He says. “I’d have to stop him from bothering you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh does he?” She jokes, laughing. “Well, he’s not so bad.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s standing beside Scott but he works up the courage to slip around and behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers and letting his fingers find the bump of the piercing hidden underneath her shirt. She</span>
  <span class="s1"> draws in a quick breath of air at the way Scott traces his thumb around it and presses his lips so close to her ear that she can feel his breath hot on her skin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah? You like him?” He whispers lowly to her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns slightly so her cheek brushing his nose and Scott lowers his head a little, their lips brushing. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott lets out a satisfied hum at how soft she feels and slips a hand under her shirt so he can play with her piercing directly, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. </span>
  <span class="s1">He can feel her stomach taught and strong beneath him and he finds himself getting hotter suddenly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He whispers into her ear. “I think you’re perfect. You know that, right?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t know what to say. She’s hot with desire and the urge to kiss his lips that are so close to hers now that it’s overwhelming but at the same time she has that awful idea that she’s letting him get too close and she’s just <em>feeling</em> way too much. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I…” She says, not sure how to respond. <em>Fuck. </em>She thinks to herself. She was fine until he said <em>that</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” Scott says softly, releasing her and letting her turn around to face him. “I’m sorry if that’s too much too soon.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares at him for a moment, her hands reaching out and playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry.” She whispers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, Tess, don’t apologise.” He says quickly. “<em>I’m</em> sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a step back and knocks a record off of the little table she bumps into. It falls to the floor but she doesn’t even acknowledge it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He says, reaching out and running his hand down her arm. She looks up at him nervously. “I’m sorry.” She says. “It’s just hard.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “That’s ok.” He says. “It’s ok. Tess, I don't want this to be hard, so… I just want you to know that I like you too. But I think maybe that was pretty obvious. I don’t spill my coffee on just anyone, you know.” He smiles at her and it seems to diffuse the situation. Tessa feels at ease again and takes a breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not asking you to do anything, ok? And you don’t owe me anything. I just like hanging out with you. And maybe we can go on another <em>maybe</em> date sometime.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Ok.” She says softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles and then leans down to pick up the record that’s fallen. It’s in an unlabelled paper sleeve. “What’s this one?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes it from him immediately when she sees it. “Nothing.” She says in a way that’s clear she doesn’t want questions about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Ok.” He says, but he’s intrigued. <em>Another mystery.</em> He thinks. And it’s not the only one of the night. As he’s heading to the bathroom, Scott passes by a picture of Tessa smiling widely, wrapped up in the arms of a man he’s never seen before. He wants so badly to ask her who it is as it’s clear they’re romantically involved. <em>Her ex? </em>He thinks. He’s heard it was a bad break up.<em> Isn’t it kind of odd to keep a picture of the two of you framed and displayed like that?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He files it away and forces himself to ignore it for now. She’s clearly been shaken up enough for tonight.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As he says goodbye that night, Tessa gives him a hug. He hadn’t expected it, but he quickly wraps his arms around her and holds her. She’s warm and soft and fits against him perfectly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for coming today.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll see you Monday.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When he goes home, he googles <em>Tessa Virtue, Ballet, </em>and immediately gets results. It turns out she danced in the National ballet for years and was one of their headliners. No wonder that little girl wanted her autograph. He watches a video of her dancing to some sad music and it actually brings tears to his eyes with the way she seems to feel the music so deeply. She’s so beautiful when she moves like that, Scott could easily watch her forever. And she looks so lovely in her tights and tutu with her hair up the way it is… And then he pauses the video because there’s a man on stage lifting her and he’s sure it’s the same man in the photograph he’s seen framed in her apartment.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Perfect. </em>The word plays over and over in Tessa’s head. <em>Perfect, perfect, perfect. </em>If only, she thinks. No, she’s never been perfect, but she’s always tried. And maybe that’s the image she puts out to the world, but it’s easy when there’s a screen or a stage separating you from the audience but when it’s real life and there’s someone right there with you it’s impossible. They get to know all your issues and flaws and every little thing you try to hide. It’s impossible hide those parts of you away. It’s been ok in the past, but since… since the accident she just doesn’t want to go there. It’s too much to bring up and nobody should have to deal with her when she’s not okay. Scott has been so helpful and she’s enjoyed his company but thinks maybe it’s time to stop pretending like they can be more than what they are now. It’s only fair to him, she thinks. She doesn’t want to lead him on to something that she can’t deliver on. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Monday comes around and there’s no coffee on the counter in front of her chair. </span>
  <span class="s1">At first she’s disappointed but then she learns that Scott’s out sick and feels badly so she texts him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><strong>Tessa: </strong>Hey.<em> Are you ok?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t answer until after the first commercial break.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <strong>Scott: </strong>
    <em>You look good in pink.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s watching live and Tessa smiles. </span>
  <span class="s1">Her phone buzzes again.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <strong>Scott: </strong>
    <em>Don’t fuck up my segment </em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1">
    <em>;) kidding. I love chaos. Do what you will. Entertain me. </em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s so funny?” Andrew asks her from beside her as they wrap commercial. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him. “Scott’s watching.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew laughs. “Ah shit, we’re definitely going to fuck up his segment.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggles. She doesn’t have time to text him back before they’re on air and she and Andrew go through a few of the national headlines before moving on to the weather. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So unfortunately our meteorologist Scott Moir is out today, so that leaves Tessa and I to the weather… Scott’s left us our notes but we aren’t all that familiar with the green screen so please bear with us, Canada.” </span>
  <span class="s1">Andrew looks down at his notes and then over to Tessa. “You wanna take the first part?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.” Tessa says. “So, it looks as though there’s a warm front coming in from the West which is going to bring some thunderstorms with it likely around mid-afternoon. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa sweeps her hand across the map but realises she’s going in the wrong direction when she sees herself on the monitor. “I mean… this direction.” She says, and waves in the opposite direction, her face colouring. She looks to Andrew who takes over and goes over the daily highs and lows and looks back at Tessa who glowers at him. He’s making her do all the pointing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"It looks like for the rest of the week we’ll have showers coming in from the east here", she waves, but it’s wrong again. Why is looking at a mirror image so hard? She switches directions and corrects herself, but not without feeling just as embarrassed as before. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew reads a bit more and then looks back at Tessa who nearly curses at him out loud, correcting herself at the last minute and fixing her face so she’s smiling instead. </span>
  <span class="s1">“And so there will be a bit of cloud cover just over Niagara Falls that might move North." She waves her hand proudly this time because you can’t fuck North up even on a mirrored screen, and she turns back to the camera with such enthusiasm that she swings her hand around and knocks over the coffee she’s made herself onto the desk. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And that’s all for weather, now we’ll go to traffic, Pat?” Andrew says hurriedly and the camera cuts and the stream goes over to the traffic report. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck.” Tessa hisses, grabbing paper napkins from one of the interns that’s rushed over with them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew’s laughing hysterically. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up.” Tessa says. “You gave me all the hardest parts.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew’s still laughing. “Yeah but you handled them like a pro.” He says. “And I bet Scott loved that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa brushes her hair out of her face and returns to her desk where she checks her phone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <strong>Scott: </strong>
    <em>You’re perfect. </em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is the only message he’s sent her and she doesn’t know what to think of it. She furrows her brow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He say anything?” Andrew asks, straightening out his tie and taking a seat beside her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa just shakes her head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew shrugs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t text Scott back. She’s not sure what to say. She’s not sure what he even meant. She’s certainly not done well with the weather so she doesn’t understand why he’d say that to her. But she does miss having him at work. She jokes with Andrew and Kaitlyn but it’s different. She realises that Scott’s become such a fixture in her life and she hasn’t even noticed. It makes her uncomfortable to think about but at the same time she realises that she <em>doesn’t</em> want to cut him out of her life, not in any way. But she’s not sure she can handle a relationship and she’s fairly certain that’s what Scott wants. She does find that she cares about him though, and now that he’s not there she sees how much happiness he’s brought to her life. There are so many little things he does that make such a big difference - the coffee, the little chocolates he leaves out for her, his snarky jokes, his cheeky compliments... his very genuine compliments, the way he sees the world, the unwavering support, the way he makes her feel safe. She could go on and on. She hasn’t known him very long but it feels like it's been forever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Tessa asks Marie for Scott’s address (Marie gives it to her a little too easily for an employer to give an employee - Tessa’s sure it’s an HR violation but Marie’s not worried) and after work that day Tessa picks up some chicken soup and crackers from her favourite deli and makes a quick trip to the florist before driving to Scott’s place. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She calls him up from outside and he answers, “Hey, kiddo.” His voice is hoarse. “I think you’re gunning for my position after that forecast. I’m a little worried you might take my job.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs, glad to hear his voice. “Come open your door. I mean - if you’re able to get up.” She says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He says, confused. “Yeah, I have a head cold, I think I can drag myself out of bed.” He chuckles at her concern. “Are you here? One second. Yeah, I can open it.” He laughs, and it’s an adorably happy laugh and then Tessa hears him clomping quickly down the stairs until she can see him through the glass of the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.” He says, still talking into his phone. “I don’t want to get you sick, what are you doing here?” He’s smiling so widely it makes Tessa’s heart hurt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just wanted to bring over some soup.” She says, shyly, gesturing toward the canvas bag she has slung over her shoulder. “Marie gave me your address.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Oh ok, I thought I had my first stalker. Oh well.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waits for Tessa to smile before saying, “You didn’t have to do that, I’m really not that sick I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. “This soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” She says. “It’s the best.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?” Scott’s intrigued. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and then laughs, “Open your door.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “I’m not going to be the one to infect the face of Canada’s morning news.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “Canada’s <em>embarrassment</em> after this morning.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles fondly. “I loved it.” He says. “I thought you were fantastic and I was thoroughly entertained.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “Just open the door.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sighs and finally gives in. “If you get sick you’re on your own, you've been warned.” He steps back and opens the door and Tessa steps inside. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve never seen your apartment.” She says. She’s tried to picture what it would look like but she truthfully hasn’t the slightest idea. She guesses more of a bachelor pad vibe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re welcome any time.” He says softly. “Just not now because you’ll get sick and I think if Andrew’s the only one on air the whole channel will go up in flames.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. That’s probably true. So she shifts the canvas bag onto his forearm and he thanks her, their eyes locked on one another. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tessa says. “I can’t do weather again.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “Well, I personally would love to watch you do weather again. I feel better that I’m not the only one who spills things.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa groans. “Go eat your soup before it gets cold.” She says, and with that she steps outside and waves to him as she leaves. Scott waves back wishing she could stay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He brings the bag up to his apartment and his heart is pounding. He feels so cared for and to be cared for by <em>her</em> is really something. He sets the bag on his kitchen table and reaches in to retrieve the soup. He can feel the warmth of it in the bag, but his thumb brushes across something soft and he reaches in further to see it’s a bouquet of flowers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He brings the bag back up to his apartment and takes the flowers out. There’s a little note nestled in the petals. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>These flowers remind me of you. -T</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>(daffodil, Queen Anne’s lace)</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott has never in his life received flowers and to have them come from Tessa, someone who’s come to mean so much to him and someone who cares greatly and puts great thought into flowers, he’s touched. </span>
  <span class="s1">They're beautiful, and he’s glad she’s labeled them for him because otherwise he’d have no clue what they were called. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks them up and his heart swells when he sees that daffodils signify <em>new beginnings </em>and he finds himself biting his lip at how sweet it is when he sees Queen Anne’s lace signify <em>safe haven</em> or <em>sanctuary</em>. It’s more meaningful than he could have imagined anything else would be. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sets them gently in a vase, trying to be as gentle with them as Tessa had been with the flowers he’d gotten her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He puts them on his kitchen table and smiles at them as he has the soup. And it is really good soup. He’s impressed that a woman who has no food in her fridge would know how to tell good food from anything else and if she were here, he’d tease her about it but right now he just enjoys it. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next day Scott wakes up feeling better. He smiles as he gets ready for work thinking of the way Tessa’ll brag that it was because of the soup. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He buys her a coffee on the way to work and leaves it on her desk per usual, but he finds out later that she’s called in sick. Scott immediately feels guilty and gives her a call. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“H’lo?” She answers the phone like she’s come out of a daze. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Tess. Sorry if I woke you I just wanted to check on you.” He says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She sniffles. “Yeah, I’m fine just a little sick.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” She says. “There’s no way you got me sick yesterday, we barely spoke.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have powerful germs.” Scott says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Scott asks, smirking. “I’m a pretty powerful guy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs, “I probably got sick from touching your desk all over yesterday.” She says. “Lucky Andrew didn’t get sick too.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See? Those germs would have been even older. Pretty powerful, eh?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going back to bed.” Tessa says, though Scott can tell she’s amused and that makes him happy enough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey before you go I just wanted to say um… thank you for the soup and the flowers. Tess, I… they really made my day. It means a lot.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Tessa says. “Just… don’t let Andrew go off the rails ok?” She’s not good with things like this so she deflects and Scott knows just as much as she does. It’s alright. It’s her actions that matter. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott says softly, smiling. “Get some good rest, kiddo. I’ll see you soon.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott feels the same way about being at work that Tessa had the other day. It’s not the same. It’s not nearly as fun without her there to talk to and joke with, and he keeps looking over at her empty chair wishing she were there. </span>
  <span class="s1">So after work Scott makes a run to the grocery store and picks out a whole bunch of essentials and heads to Tessa’s apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He calls her up from her stoop just the way she’d done the day before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He says. “How’re you doing?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m ok.” She says. “You don’t have to check up on me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You checked up on me.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah but I’m stronger.” She says back and Scott smirks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can't argue with that one.” He says. “Hey, listen, come open your door then, since you’re so strong.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighs. “Scott.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He asks, innocently. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t need anything. You don’t have to be here.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to be here.” He says. “Plus, I have antibodies. You can’t get me sick, so get down here, I have perishables.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perishables?” Tessa asks, bemused. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. That’s what you call food that needs to be refrigerated. Obviously I wouldn’t expect you to know that since clearly you’ve never used a fridge before.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Watch it, Moir, I’m stronger than you remember?” She lobs back as she comes down the stairs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You coming to beat me up?” He asks with a huge grin. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You wish.” Tessa says, opening the door for him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott hangs up the phone, glad to see her. “I do.” He says and Tessa shakes her head, holding the door open for him. “Hurry up then before your perishables… perish.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott thinks her voice is adorably hoarse and she looks snuggly as anything in her joggers and sweatshirt with her hair gathered up on top of her head and her sleepy eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He follows her up the stairs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do know how to buy groceries, you know.” Tessa says, letting him into the apartment. Scott goes straight for the fridge and starts unloading the bags. Tessa gets each of them a glass of water.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Could’ve fooled me.” He says, and then he turns to her and sees her chewing her lip. He can tell she thinks he’s judging her but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He moves toward her and reaches out, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I was just worried you wouldn’t have anything to eat.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their eyes meet and suddenly it feels like nothing matters and everything they’d just been discussing goes out the window. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You look really pretty, Tess.” He says, and he feels like he’s back in grade school with that comment but the words just came out of his mouth. He couldn't stop them. He runs the back of his hand gently down her arm. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m <em>sick</em>.” She says. She feels like she looks awful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You make sick look really good.” Scott says, reaching up and tucking a flyaway behind her ear. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blushes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I meant it when I said you're perfect." He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grimaces. "I messed everything up." She says. "I looked like an idiot. I couldn't be further from perfect." <br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. "You're perfect because of all that." He says. "'cause it's <em>you</em>." </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn't know how to respond to that. She just stares at him for a moment. Inside her heart is beating out of her chest, and Scott can tell she's a bit nervous. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, why don’t you lay down and I’ll make you some dinner?” He suggests. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott…” Tessa says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you don’t need me here.” He says, “But I want to be here. And I’m not fully sure you’re aware that someone actually has to cook the food once it’s in the refrigerator.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa punches him playfully on the shoulder which has Scott smiling all over again. “I can help.” Tessa offers, but Scott shakes his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go lay down.” He says. “I won’t be long.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lays on the sofa under a blanket. She actually does feel quite ill and it’s nice to be resting while knowing someone’s here. She likes that she’s not alone anymore and she especially likes that not only is she not alone but she’s with someone who cares for her. Who <em>wants </em>to care for her. It’s very comforting and she finds herself getting caught up in watching Scott in the kitchen. She likes the way he looks when he’s cooking. He’s very focused and calculated and each movement he makes seems to have a purpose. She likes the way his arms look when he grips the handle of a heavy pot or when he stirs something, and she likes how gentle he is. After a while, she feels so comfortable with him there that she starts drifting off to sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She only wakes up when Scott sets a bowl of soup he’s made on the table beside her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oops.” He says. “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.” He’d noticed she was asleep and had cleaned up the kitchen and was ready to go, but he wanted her to have something to eat there when she woke up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s more soup in the fridge for later.” He tells her, not wanting to intrude on her privacy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She says. She’s still so drowsy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sit there.” She points to the end of the sofa that she’s laying on. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, ok.” He says, taking a seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s still laying out on the sofa, her feet pressed against Scott’s thigh under the blanket. She wiggles them under his thigh and Scott laughs, but watches on as Tessa’s expression relaxes. “My feet are cold.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Scott says back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re warm.” Tessa yawns. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. "I guess I'm stuck here then, eh?" </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
  <span class="s1">They sit there for a little while and Tessa’s falling back to sleep when Scott says, “Hey, Tess?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” She asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Those flowers… you got them on purpose, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes flutter open and she looks up at him and nods shyly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles warmly at her and gets up from the sofa (and off of her feet) to kneel down on the carpet so they’re face to face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blinks rapidly, trying her best to stay focused, she’s just exhausted. But Scott presses his forehead to hers and nuzzles her nose and Tessa’s whole body feels like it's lit up. It feels so good to have him this close. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll always be safe.” He says. “I don’t ever want you to question that. I’ll always be here for you. I’m so glad I know you, T.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whimpers softly and Scott presses his lips to her forehead and kisses her there. “Shh.” He says, “It’s ok.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “It’s not.” She whispers. “I have to tell you something.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “No you don’t.” He says softly, stroking her hair. “You don’t have to do anything.” He already knows about the accident and he thinks he knows who the man in the photo is. His google search of her name a few nights ago had turned up with several articles on the crash, but he'd only read one of the headlines - <em><strong>Tessa Virtue and Matthew Moore of National Ballet Severely Injured in Car Wreck</strong></em>. He hadn't clicked on any of the articles. It had felt too invasive to read all the details. He can't imagine the pain it causes her to talk about so while he does want her to be able to share things with him so they can talk through them together, he knows It'll come in time and he's perfectly ok with waiting for that. He's not going to pry or research her personal life because clearly she isn't ready for him to know about certain things yet and he wants to respect that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s lip quivers. “I want to tell you, but it's so hard.” She says. She’s so sleepy but even so, she can feel her eyes burning with tears unshed. </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods and strokes her cheek. “Everything's on your own time, ok? I’m here no matter what.” He says. “New beginnings and all.” He winks at her and she smiles, but as she blinks a tear falls from her eye and rolls down her cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott leans in and kisses it from her skin, and Tessa lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.” She whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Close your eyes now, ok? Get some sleep, Tess. “I can stay if you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods yes. “Thank you.” She whispers again. </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles and continues stroking her hair until she’s fast asleep. He takes up a spot on the armchair next to her and settles in for a nap as well. It’s not the most comfortable place to sleep but Tessa’s here and she <em>wants </em>him here and he just doesn’t care about anything else right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Screaming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t wake until around midnight. He hadn’t meant to sleep that long but here he was. He wakes to the sound of Tessa whimpering in her sleep, and then he hears her say, “Matty?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott gets up and kneels in front of her again, stroking her hair. “Hey.” He whispers. “Hey Tess, it’s Scott. I’m here.” He shakes her shoulder gently and her eyes flutter open. She’s in such a daze that Scott isn’t completely sure she recognises him as she reaches out and hugs him around the neck. But she whispers "Scott" and it puts him at ease and makes sleeping in the armchair so worth it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kiddo.” He whispers, holding the back of her head. “You’re alright.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I”m sorry I woke you.” She whispers and Scott lets his hand fall to her back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, that’s alright.” He says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay so late I just didn’t wake up.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nuzzles against his cheek. She’s so warm in Scott’s arms and her movements are slowed by sleep. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I”m glad you’re here.” She mumbles as she drifts back off to sleep against him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s heart melts and he sets her back on the sofa and pulls the blankets up snug over her. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t wake up until it’s light out the next morning and he doesn’t wake peacefully, it’s to the sound of the fire alarm blaring and Tessa shouting “Shit!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott jumps up from the armchair ignoring the crick in his neck and his aching back and finds Tessa up on her tip toe on a shaking stool, trying to shut the fire alarm off. Based off the black smoke coming from the toaster, she’s just burnt some toast. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, hey, careful.” He says as she pushes herself a bit higher. She manages to press the button and stop the blaring at least but she loses her balance last minute and falls. </span>
  <span class="s1">Luckily, Scott is there and catches her expertly, though it’s not going to help his back any. She’s not very heavy though and he holds her against him easily, cradling her bridal style. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Is all she says when she’s realised she hasn’t hit the floor. And then she looks up at him sheepishly and smiles. “Good morning.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t help but laugh. “How are you even alive?” He asks, having no idea how she’s fed herself up till now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Takeout.” Tessa says. “You can put me down now.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The idea of setting her down hadn’t really crossed Scott’s mind and he flushes and sets her on her feet. He likes holding her like that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I take it you’re feeling better?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I was hungry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles, glad to hear it. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’ll make breakfast.” He says. “You just… go be not a fire hazard somewhere.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grumbles and slinks off to get ready for work. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They have a quick breakfast together that consists of Scott mostly admiring the way Tessa looks in the morning with a mouth full of the eggs he’s made for her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Then he’s driving them to work thankful that they have a wardrobe department because he hadn’t meant to stay the whole night and he didn’t have a change of clothes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did I dream you woke me up in the middle of the night or was that real?” Tessa asks as Scott pulls away from her apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was real.” Scott says softly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa says, looking away from him and out the window. “Why did you wake me?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It sounded like you were having a nightmare.” Scott says. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tenses up. “Did I say anything?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not that I could hear.” Scott says, lying, though he thinks it’s for her own good. He doesn’t want to pressure her into telling him about Matthew.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa seems satisfied with that answer. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The weekend comes quickly and Scott joins Tessa for her second set of filming for her project - the volleyball player, Mari. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott has to consciously hold himself back from cursing when he sees her come out of the dressing room. She’s in a bikini made specifically for beach volleyball and <em>fuck</em>, Scott thinks. <em>She looks amazing. </em>He already knew she would but it’s another thing to have her standing there in front of him in the little thing. It’s a deep blue and contrasts in such a lovely way with her skin Scott’s not sure where to look. It hugs her tight around her hips and leaves little to the imagination. He can’t help the way his eyes focus on her piercing. It’s gleaming in the light. He glues his eyes to hers so it’s not too obvious he’s been looking, but Tessa’s blushing anyway, he hasn’t exactly kept his cool. She’s holding her arms behind her back and she says to him, “Do bodyguard duties involve helping with things on my <em>actual</em> body? Like helping me tie my suit?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They can.” Scott says, stepping closer and Tessa turns around. He grasps the ties in his hands and Tessa lets go so he can take over. He ties them up securely and then drops his lips to her ear. “It’s gonna cost you extra, though.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns around. “Oh yeah?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “One maybe date.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa considers. “If this bikini actually stays on the whole time I’m out there then I’ll do you one better - one <em>real</em> date.” She turns and Scott watches her walk away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches her walk away and tries not to focus on her body <em>too</em> much. He can’t stop smiling. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches her learn a basic serve and a punch, and of course a spike. Seeing her like that has Scott incredibly hot under the collar. He likes the way her ponytail bounces around and he loves watching her having fun. When she comes back over, her skin shimmering from her efforts all he wants to do is kiss her. </span>
  <span class="s1">“You look good out there.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a good coach.” She says, speaking of Mari. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, well, she has a good student.” Scott smiles, handing her her water bottle that he’d been holding. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Looks like our deal is on then, eh?” Scott says, motioning to her top which has stayed tied.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles. “Looks like it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa finishes up with an interview with Mari where Mari talks about being so close to the olympics only to have her dream shattered by a horrific accident. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I was on my bike.” Mari is saying, “And this car just comes out of absolutely nowhere and before I know it I’m on the ground and everything just goes black.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches Tessa’s face. He can see her get tense at the mention of a car accident - at an injury in general. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was months and months of rehab with hardly any progress and Candace, my partner, was just practicing all on her own. I actually got really angry with her about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You got angry with her for practicing on her own?” Tessa asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I got angry that she wasn’t looking for another partner.” Mari clarifies. “I knew I wasn’t ever going to be able to play at that level again, but Candace just wouldn’t have it.” Mari shakes her head and laughs. “Eventually I put feelers out and found her a new partner. I just sent her into practice one day without even telling Candace. She came to my house afterward and really laid into me. It was pretty funny actually.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles nervously. “So you wanted your partner to continue competing even if it meant it she would be moving on without you?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course.” Mari says. “There would be no point in her waiting around for something that wasn’t ever going to happen. It wasn’t doing anyone any good and she’s a brilliant player so why should she be sitting out? I knew how much joy she got out of the game so I just had to get her back out there. It made me really happy when she finally did. I actually think I was happier to see her out there than she was to be there. She’s at a match in Germany now. I’ll be watching her a bit later.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s left speechless for a moment before continuing, “Wow, what a selfless thing to do.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mari shakes her head. “I care about her. I think when you really care about a person it makes you happy to see them happy, even if you can’t do the thing with them.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa swallows hard and nods. She’s blinking back tears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mari, thank you so much for your time today, I think you’ve given me a lot to think about and a lot of skills to work on if I ever hope to be half as good as you on the court!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Mari embrace and they cut. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two women talk for a while longer before saying goodbye and Tessa makes her way back over to Scott, wiping at her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles sympathetically. “What a story, eh?” He says, wrapping an arm around Tessa’s waist and pulling her into a hug. “You ok?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They go on their <em>real </em>date that very night. This time it’s Tessa’s turn to choose and she shows up at Scott’s apartment with a picnic basket which she immediately settles into Scott’s hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re driving.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Yes, ma’am.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He follows her directions out of the city. It’s dusk by the time Scott turns his truck onto a dusty road. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh… are you taking me here to murder me?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up and drive.” Tessa tells him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t feel safe.” Scott jokes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The road ends at a trailhead and they get out of the car in almost complete darkness. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He asks, confused, but he follows her out of the car and takes the basket with him. With the light from the torch Tessa’s brought with her, they navigate up the dusty path until they reach a clearing and Scott can see now why she’s brought him here. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow.” He breathes. They’re on the edge of a cliff overlooking the city of Toronto. Everything is glowing - the lights dance from each building and light up the sky like a million little stars. And speaking of stars - they’re so visible here even with the Toronto skyline lighting up the horizon. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, how’d you find this place?” He asks, setting the basket down. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I came here a lot after the accident.” She says quietly. “I just needed to get out of my apartment and would go on these long drives all over the city. When I found this place I just kept coming back. I’ve never shown it to anyone else before.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles understandingly. He gets that this is her way of letting him in just a bit more and he’s grateful for it. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He says softly. “It’s so beautiful.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pretends like what she’s said hadn’t been sentimental at all and goes about arranging a blanket on the grass for them to sit on before digging sandwiches out of the basket. </span>
  <span class="s1">They sit and chat about little things - weather, Kaitlyn and Andrew, beaches, Tessa’s project, Scott’s fashion sense (or lack thereof), and in a moment of silence, Scott moves closer to her and wraps an arm around her so she can rest her head on his shoulder while they look out at the city lights. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a really interesting person, you know that?” He says softly to her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scrunches her nose and looks up at him. “I’m really not.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “Yeah you are. I’m certainly interested.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles softly. “I think you’re a lot more interesting.” She says and then shivers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Not even close. You cold? Come here.” He arranges himself behind her so she can sit between his legs and lean her back against his chest. He wraps his arms around her for good measure. “Is this ok?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. It feels nice. </span>
  <span class="s1">They sit like this for a while listening to the sounds of the crickets chirping in the brush and admiring the stars and the skyline. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” Tessa says softly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” It’s so peaceful there in the quiet night with the dancing lights and Tessa’s warm body against his that he was lost in a trance of some sort. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you really not know about me?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott loses his breath for a moment and he’s not sure what to say. He clears his throat nervously. “I um… googled your name.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa nods she doesn't seem surprised. “So you read about the accident?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “No. I - I didn’t. I didn’t know if you’d want me to know about it. I did read that you were in the national ballet. And I watched you dance. Tess, you’re an amazing dancer. You’re so beautiful. And I’m so sorry if that’s overstepping but I just - I heard Meryl say something and my curiosity got the better of me and I wish it hadn’t but it doesn’t change anything. At least not from where I stand. I understand if you’re upset.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “No. It’s alright.” She says and then she’s silent for a moment. “Do you want to know about the accident?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott holds her tighter and presses his cheek to hers. “I want to know everything about you.” He says softly. “Do you want me to know you?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “I do." She says, and it's not the first time she acknowledges the feeling that she <em>wants </em>to share these things with him. He's good to talk to. "I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I’m still learning how to talk about it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head. “You don’t ever have to apologise for things like that.” He says. “On your own time, remember?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods takes a shaky breath. “I used to come here and cry for hours after the accident.” She says. Scott gives her time to see if she’ll continue. She does. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like I’d lost everything after the accident. I just wanted a place where I could cry without being pitied or judged and I had to get out of my apartment. So I’d come here and just sit and it helped.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “I can see how it would be a good spot for that.” He says, though he really hates the idea of her out here alone and crying. “Do you still feel that way? That sad, I mean.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s staring off at a building, she’s glad she’s not facing him, and just as glad to have his arms around her. “Sometimes.” She says softly. “But not so much lately. Finding a new career helped. The project has been a good distraction and - and you - I feel better when I’m with you.” She says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” Scott breathes and squeezes her shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. She’s not done. “I met Matty at the ballet. He was a dancer as well.” She says, her voice quivering. “And he was… everything I wasn’t. Hard where I was soft, patient where I was frustrated, and sure where I was scared. We dated for a year and then we were engaged. And I was happy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott finds his heart is beating out of his chest. <em>She was engaged.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a shaking breath. “Then there was that stupid accident.” She says. “I was injured already - that’s what nobody knew when they wrote about it, and none of the news outlets said this but Matty was driving us to get ice cream after a really hard practice to cheer me up.” Her voice breaks and Scott can tell she’s crying so he runs the arm slung around her up and down her arm to soothe her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He says, but she’s not done. She’s determined to get this all out in the open. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s just who he was. He was selfless and so caring and he always wanted to make sure I was happy.” She says, sobbing now, and Scott’s wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into his lap, holding her as tightly as he can. </span>
  <span class="s1">“And then he died. Some guy ran a red light and that was it.” Tessa feels like she’s been sliced open and is bleeding out right there in his arms. She can hardly breathe. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m not scared of dancing and I’m not afraid of re-injuring myself or being in pain, I just don’t dance anymore because <em>he</em> can’t.” She sobs, shuddering against him. “It’s not fair that I’m here and able to whatever I want and he’s not.” She chokes on her own tears. “It’s not fair.” She sobs. "And it's not fair that they didn't ever talk about who he was as a person, just what he did for a living and what happened to him." </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods, understanding now why she's wanted to tell the stories of these athletes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shh.” Scott says, “Come here, Tess, come here.” He turns her and pulls her into his lap almost so he’s cradling her. She doesn’t resist even though she hates when people see her cry. She wants to be held. She wants him to hold her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He keeps her close and she presses her face into the crook of his neck and lets her tears soak into the collar of his shirt. Scott just runs his hands across her back and rests his cheek on her head. “I got you.” He says. “It’s alright.” He holds her until she calms down a bit and then he whispers, “Thank you for telling me, Tess. I’m so sorry that happened.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him and breaks his heart with her tearstained cheeks and her red nose. </span>
  <span class="s1">He strokes her cheeks, trying to brush away the tears. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and they stay there for a long time just resting and breathing against one another. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you tried screaming?” Scott asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tessa looks up at him, confused. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugs. “It helped me a lot when I lost hockey. I know it’s not the same as losing a person but… it helped.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Screaming?” She asks. She thinks she'd laugh if she didn't feel so awful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. Here, I’ll show you. This is a perfect place for it, it would have saved me a lot of noise complaints." She’s still sitting in front of him so he covers her ears for her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I HATE CUCUMBERS!” He yells and Tessa giggles despite her tears. Scott smiles at that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You try.” He suggests. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “I don’t think I’m a screamer.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You sure?” He asks. “Here, I can do a more serious one.” He takes a deep breath and covers her ears for her again. “FUCK CAR ACCIDENTS!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s smiling and crying at the same time and Scott doesn’t know if he’s helping or making things worse, so he pulls her in close and presses his lips to her ear. “You can start quietly if you want.” He says. “Just whisper it first.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wipes at her eyes and takes a deep and shaky breath. “Fuck car accidents.” She says softly and Scott rubs his hands along her arms. “Fuck ‘em.” He says, nodding. “Say it again.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck car accidents.” She says it a little louder and then she looks up at him and Scott smiles because he has no idea what she’s thinking but she’s stopped crying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gets up, leaving his embrace and stands by the edge of the cliff. Scott scrambles up to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“FUCK CAR ACCIDENTS!” She screams into the night and her voice echoes all around them. “FUCK CAR ACCIDENTS!” She screams again, her fists balled up tightly. Scott’s about to pull her into another hug because he’s proud of her but Tessa’s lost in the moment now. It feels so fucking good to let go for a second that she screams something she’s been keeping inside for so <em>so</em> long, something that she’s been afraid to admit even to herself. “I MISS DANCING!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott beams and feels tears prick his eyes when she turns around and all but jumps into his arms hugging him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care to at the moment. He hugs her back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good?” He asks. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
  <span class="s1">He just holds her there silently while she cries again. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Good work.” He says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs through her tears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, I don’t know Matty? Matt? I don’t know what to call him -“ Scott says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everyone called him Matty.” Tessa mumbles against his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know Matty, but if he cared that much about making you happy, I think we’d have gotten along. If it’s ok for me to say that.” He says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I think if he wanted you to be happy, Tess, that would include dancing as well.” Scott adds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pushes back shaking her head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, you know what Meryl and Mari said about their partners? How they wanted them to keep competing, to be happy?” Scott asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes fall to the ground. She knows. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I know I’m overstepping. I didn’t know him. But he wanted you to be happy.” Scott cups her cheek. “Do you genuinely think he’d have wanted you to stop dancing?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s lip quivers and tears begin to fall again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you could start slow. What if it’s not ballet?” Scott asks. “And there’s no music.” He folds her into his arms and to his surprise, Tessa wraps her arms around his neck and rests her cheek on his shoulder and nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wh- you want… with me?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and Scott lets out a long breath. “Ok.” He whispers and he starts to move slowly, just barely. He sways them gently back and forth. It’s hardly perceptible, the way they’re moving and an onlooker might not classify it as dancing so much as active hugging, but Tessa’s bawling against Scott's shoulder now because <em>she</em> feels like it’s dancing. And it feels so nice. And that’s all that matters. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They sway there until Tessa’s cried all her tears and is left sniffling and clinging to Scott. She’s beyond caring if he sees her crying now, that’s long out the window. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” She whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” He says gently. He’ll do whatever she asks. It doesn’t matter what it is. She’s done a number on him tonight and he doesn’t think he can let go of her just now. </span>
  <span class="s1">But she says, “I want to go home.” And if he has to let go of her to do what she wants he will. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They hold hands as they make their way back to the car. Tessa’s exhausted emotionally and physically and Scott feels about the same way but he drives her back and helps her out of the car. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly what you imagined a first date to be right?” Tessa jokes, smiling weakly. She feels badly now, like she’s ruined their evening and made it all about her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott takes her face in his hands. “It’s everything I wanted and more.” He says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The smile’s wiped from Tessa’s face in an instant but she pushes his chest. “You’re so corny.” She says, but with no real conviction.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Yeah, but you knew that going in.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles now. “I did.” She whispers. “I like it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” Scott says and strokes his thumbs across her cheeks. “Are you alright? I mean I’ll do anything, Tess. Whatever you need.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. “I’m ok, thank you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Scott whispers and he leans in and presses his lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, Tess.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, I thought this was a real date.” Tessa says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott cocks his head for a moment before he realises what she means and then a smile spreads across his entire face. “It was.” He says and his hands are cupping her cheeks again. He tilts her face up to him and she’s so beautiful under the streetlights with her eyelashes long and stuck together with tears and her cheeks flushes and lips waiting for him. He moves in closer and nuzzles her nose. She smells like strawberries. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I feel like I should spill coffee on you or something. Make it official.” He says softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa huffs a laugh. “Just kiss me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s all the answer Scott needs and he lets his lips slot against hers gently at first, but with increasing intensity as he feels her hand on his chest. She tastes just like she smells - sweet and flowery, and her lips are so soft he thinks he could kiss her for days on end. It’s not a long kiss but Scott feels like it’s one he’ll remember for the rest of his life. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they pull apart he rests his forehead against hers for a while. “You sure you’re ok?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Thank you.” She says. “For everything.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Scott says, wincing as she pulls away. He misses the feel of her already. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches her climb the stairs to her apartment and when she reaches the door she turns around and says, “Coffee on you Monday for making me cry on our first date.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins. “It’s the least I could do.” He says. “See you then.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you.” Tessa says softly before slipping into her building. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Finding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wow! So sorry it's been a month since I've updated this! I've had a few family and personal emergencies crop up and I just couldn't find it in me to write but I did want to finish this story. I'm a bit rusty but I hope this does it justice. If you're still reading thank you for sticking it out! Apologies again!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the night that Tessa’s story is set to premiere and Tessa’s a bit of a mess. She’s terrified nobody will like it or that it won’t be relatable enough. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She often finds it difficult to imagine things going well for her, but Scott’s hyped her up, coming into wardrobe to rub her shoulders (because they’re up to her ears with the stress of it all), and they’ve just finished their live segment and are saying their goodbyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And stay tuned for a story by our very own Tessa Virtue.” Andrew says, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa can see Patch, who’s come in specifically to be there for the segment. He gives her a thumbs up and Tessa’s touched that he’s come. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes a deep breath and smiles into the camera. “These experiences have affected me deeply and I feel honoured to have had the opportunity to shed some light on these stories. I hope that they can help other feel that they’re not alone and that a great loss isn’t the end and that we get to define who we are.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s watching from in front of the green screen with a sweet smile on his face. He’s so proud if her and proud that he played even a small part in what he already knows will be a fantastic story.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just last night she’d come to his apartment for the first time. He hadn’t been expecting her, but she’d just showed up on his doorstep with a bottle of wine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was just down the block, actually and I don’t know… I don’t know I thought of you and how much you’ve helped me and I wanted to see you… I’m sorry to just pop in, I just wanted to drop this off.” She rambles as she stands on his stoop and Scott rolls his eyes at her and pulls her inside. “Get in here.” He chuckles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then she’s wrapped up in his arms. “It’s not every day that <em>Canada’s sweetheart </em>drops in, eh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pushes away from him and presses the bottle to his chest in place of her. “Just take the wine.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles playfully. “I’m actually more of a beer guy myself so…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa leers at him but he continues, “<em>So</em>, you might have to come up and help me drink it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks away shyly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you have room in your schedule to pencil me in, that is.” He says, running a hand down her arm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think I can squeeze you in.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” He smiles back and takes her hand, pulling her upstairs and into his apartment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pours her a generous glass of wine and sets it in front of her on the coffee table as she’s taking in her surroundings. He smiles, trying to work out what she thinks of his apartment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trying to get me drunk?” She asks him as he sits beside her on the sofa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No way.” He says to her. “You’re dangerous enough sober.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa punches him in the shoulder and Scott chuckles. “So how much do you hate my apartment?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her face reddens, realising it’s obvious she’s been looking around nosily. She shakes her head. “No.” She says. “I don’t… I don’t hate it.” And she’s being honest. She’s surprised at how organised it is. There’s plenty of light and he even has flowers on his kitchen counter. His sofa is leather and somehow stainless, so she’s actually quite impressed. Plus, it smells like him and it’s a scent she’s come to find comfort in. “It’s nice.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs. “I’ll take <em>nice</em> coming from you.” He says. “You look good in it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In your apartment?” Tessa asks amusedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “I mean … you look good anywhere but I like you in my apartment.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles shyly and takes a sip of wine to cover it up, but Scott’s learned to see it and he feels satisfied. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He moves a little closer and places a hand on her back, his fingers opening and closing soothingly. “I like making you blush.” He says and Tessa glares at him the way he knew she would, but he just leans in and grips her chin between his thumb and index finger. All her fire, the words she’d had ready on the tip of her tongue vanish. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispers, his lips brushing hers, and then he nuzzles her nose. “I love seeing you. Thank you for coming.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blushes all over again, a deep pink and Scott leans away and kisses her cheek instead of her lips. </span>
  <span class="s1">He moves back but reaches out and runs a hand up her thigh. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa shuts her eyes tightly and lets out a sigh, and Scott can’t read her reaction so he withdraws. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hesitates. “I just…” She trails off and gulps before shaking her head. She decides to be honest. “It’s the anniversary of Matty’s death and I wanted… I don’t know. I didn’t want to be alone.” She blurts out and Scott’s brows shoot up in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” He says. “Oh, Tess, I’m sorry, I had no idea. I - fuck… Can I do something for you? Do you need anything? Like, anything at all?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “I just didn’t want to be alone.” She says. “I don’t know…” She hunches over and buries her face in her hands shaking her head. “I’m sorry - this isn’t fair to either of you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Either of <em>us</em>?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You or Matty.” She says. “I shouldn’t be dragging you into this and I shouldn’t be making his death about myself.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah.” Scott says. “Hold your horses, you’re making a lot of assumptions there.” He moves a bit closer to her and rests a hand on the small of her back. </span>
  <span class="s1">“First of all, you aren’t dragging me into <em>anything. </em>I’m here because I want to be. But for the record I would let you drag me anywhere happily.” He winks goofily at her and she rolls her eyes, but he sees her lips quiver. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He whispers and he takes her face in his hands and rests his forehead against hers. “I can’t speak for Matty, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t think you were making this about yourself. You lost someone you love, Tess. It’s normal to mourn and it’s normal to not want to be alone while you do it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott can see tears gathering in her eyes and it breaks his heart. </span>
  <span class="s1">He strokes her hair and nuzzles her nose. “Not the same thing but hell, when I lost hockey, I slept on my brother’s sofa for two months. Not the best look, but it was what I needed.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sniffles and nods, blinking back tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” She breathes. “I’m sorry, I just feel so… um… I’m not used to wanting someone around during all of this. And I think maybe I feel a little guilty that I um… well... we kissed.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles sadly and tucks a strand of hair back behind Tessa’s ear. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It doesn’t have to go any further than that, Tess.” He whispers, doing his best to hide his disappointment and feeling badly that he’d kissed her before he’d known how distressed she was feeling. She certainly did a bang-up job of hiding her feelings. “Do you want to talk about him?” He asks. “I’d like that if you would.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks taken aback, and to be honest, she is. She’d never known anyone (aside from her mother and sister) who’d wanted to sit there and talk about her dead fiancé with her. “I don’t want to make you-“ She begins, but he cuts her off by reaching out for the wine and topping both of their glasses off. “I’m dialed in already, Virtch.” He says. “Any guy that holds your attention’s gotta be interesting. I want to know his secrets.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffs, but Scott just smiles and hands her her glass. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two of them talk and drink late into the night. Tessa tells Scott all the best stories about Matty, ones she’s never told anyone else, even, and he’s captivated from beginning to end. </span>
  <span class="s1">By the time one a.m. rolls around, the two of them are leaned back with their heads resting on the sofa cushions. Tessa’s got her feet tucked up onto the sofa and Scott’s smiling at how comfortable she looks now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks for sitting up with me.” She says softly, yawning. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Of course.” He says, and he lets his hand rest on her arm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa likes the way it feels to have a part of him touching her. He’s warm and his grip is firm but gentle and it feels incredibly comforting. Before she knows it, her eyes are shut and she’s fallen asleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she wakes up it’s just past three thirty in the morning and Scotts’s there beside her, his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, his upper body sill angled toward her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” She whispers. “Scott?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” It takes him a moment to register that she’s talking to him, but when he does, he opens his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She says. “I fell asleep.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles as it's happened to them before. “Don’t be sorry, so did I.” He’s glad she felt comfortable enough to sleep. He glances over at the clock and realises how soon they’ll have to get up for work. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sleep in my bed the rest of the night.” He says, and then immediately adds, “I’ll take the sofa.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott runs a hand down her arm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hesitates and Scott laughs. “Take the bed.” He says, "Come on.” And he grabs her hand before she can protest and pulls her into his bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s neat and tidy and not exactly what Tessa was expecting. There’s his hockey jersey framed and hanging up on the wall and his skates and stick in the far corner but everything else is relatively unassuming. The bed is made up simply, just two pillows and a comforter, but it looks more than inviting with how tired Tessa feels. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott peels the comforter back for her and she climbs in without hesitation this time. </span>
  <span class="s1">He watches with a strange pang of pride as she snuggles into his pillows and lets him tuck her in. He smiles at her for a moment longer, taking in the image of her in his bed before he pulls himself away and flicks off the light. “Night Tess.” He says softly, but she’s already asleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It proves to be a restless night, however, and Tessa wakes an hour later feeling sad. She’s cozy in bed and the pillows smell like Scott. Maybe it’s her tired brain or the wine or the fact that her brain probably has whiplash from the emotional rollercoaster that yesterday had proven to be, but she wants Scott’s comfort again. She wants it so much that she gets out of bed and tiptoes into the living room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She can see Scott’s sleeping form on the sofa and, with her arms wrapped around herself like a child, she whispers from the doorway, “Scott?” And then once more as she’d done earlier, “Scott?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” He mumbles and stirs under the bed he’s made for himself on the sofa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you awake?” She asks. She’s starting to feel cold and the discomfort is too much right now. Her eyes fill with tears. “Scott?” Her voice breaks. She shouldn’t wake him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s about to turn and go back to bed, feeling silly and needy, but Scott sits up. “Tess, what’s wrong?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks and biting her lip. “Could I um…” She swallows hard and prays she isn’t asking too much. “Could I have a hug?” Her voice breaks again and tears fall from her eyes. She’s glad it’s dark so Scott can’t see them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He whispers. She can see his form shift so that he’s holding his arms out. “Come here.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pads over to him gingerly, but he pulls her down onto the sofa so she’s laying beside him and takes her into his arms. He’s warm and he smells nice and he holds her so tightly that Tessa can’t hold back her feelings any longer and she sobs into his shoulder. Scott rolls onto his back and holds her tighter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s alright.” He whispers. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone, Tess. I’m here.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s exactly what she needs to hear in the moment and she grips his shirt in her fists and lets herself be comforted by his words and his warmth and the way he holds her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He strokes her hair and then her back and eventually Tessa falls back asleep in his arms. Scott stays up for a while afterward and continues gently stroking her back, hoping that it’ll help her know she’s not alone even while she’s asleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he feels comfortable that she’s alright, he finally lets himself drift off. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And here he is now watching her stand confidently in front of the camera, about to make her debut as a segment reporter. He’s in awe of her strength, the way she can pull herself together when everything seems to hurt. Scott had never been the best at that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa catches his eye and Scott flashes her a reassuring smile which she returns, as the segment begins to roll. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They watch her in the rink and on the court and Scott steals a glance over at Patch and beams when he sees how impressed he looks at Tessa’s work. Marie is smiling proudly as well, though she’d already seen and approved the segment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the very end, there’s a talking head of Tessa, which Scott hadn’t known would be part of the video. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes a deep shaking breath. “A few years ago my fiancé, Matty and I were in the national ballet when when were involved in a horrible car accident.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks at Tessa in real time, but she’s just looking down at her feet. When he hears her talking again Scott looks back to the screen.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My fiancé was killed in the accident and I was severely injured. It took me a very long time to recover physically, but truthfully, the emotional toll of losing someone I’d loved was far worse.” She wipes at her eyes. “I told myself that if Matty couldn’t dance anymore, than I wouldn’t either because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I’d survived and he hadn’t. So I found something else. I found journalism and I fell in love with that just as much as dancing. It’s all about telling a story, only this time it was with words instead of my body. And I’m happy with that. I’m happy with the transition I’ve made but recently… well, I met a very kind person who’s become a very good friend, who’s taught me that you can love more than one thing at once. And he’s taught me that love is wanting happiness for another person.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The camera pans out and Tessa’s standing on a stage in an elegant black dress and tights with black point shoes on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The last song Matty and I danced to was Vivaldi’s “Winter<em>”</em>. And I was so happy. But things have changed. And I’ve realised that I can be happy in another season as well.” Tessa’s voice is soft as she finishes speaking and the music of Vivaldi’s “Summer” takes over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches with his eyes glued to the screen as she begins to stretch her arms and leg out and effortlessly steps up onto her toes and begins to dance beautifully along the stage with the to the rhythm of the violin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The entire studio is silent as they watch Tessa dance. Some of them had no idea she’d been a dancer and none of them had ever thought the straight-laced anchor could move so gracefully. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time the dance is over Scott has tears in his eyes, and as the camera pans back closer to Tessa’s face, Scott can see she’d been emotional as well. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There is always room for a new beginning.” She says softly, and then swallows the lump in her throat and manages, “This has been Tessa Virtue with Channel Five News. Thank you for watching.”, and the screen goes black and lights come back on to the sound of the studio clapping while they go off air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott redirects his eyes toward real-time Tessa, a huge smile plastered across her face, but while everyone had been distracted, she’s slipped backstage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott finds his way back into her dressing room as people begin milling about. He slips through the door and finds Tessa removing her makeup. She sees him standing there in the reflection of the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t turn, just looks at his reflection as she finishes taking the last bit of mascara off. “Hey.” She replies. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were amazing.” Scott says. “I mean… Tess, you were <em>amazing. </em>You<em> are </em>amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiles shyly at his reflection. “Couldn’t have done it without my <em>very good friend.” </em>She says, smirking, and Scott grins. “Yes you could have.” He says, “But I’m always happy to help.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“About the <em>friend </em>part…” Tessa says, sneaking a quick glance at him before looking down at her fingernails. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe it can be um… more?” She says quietly. She'd been thinking it ever since he'd held her last night. Matty would want her to be happy. And Scott made her happy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott feels his heart beating out of his chest. “Tess, um… what you were saying before… I mean last night…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know.” She says, and she looks up at his reflection, her body still facing away from him, but her green eyes are piercing all the same. “But my good friend taught me that you can love more than one thing at once.” She says, repeating her words from the segment, and Scott’s heart all but leaps out of his chest at that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come here.” He says, and he grabs the back of her chair and spins it around so she’s facing him. He’s about to reach for her but she reaches out first and wraps her arms tightly around his neck and pulls him into her, her lips pressing against his in a sweet kiss that makes Scott weak in the knees. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Loss is hard, Tessa knows, but she’s come to learn that finding something new is not forgetting and neither is being happy. </span>
</p>
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